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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24725977">Hellcat</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ern_Boosk/pseuds/Ern_Boosk'>Ern_Boosk</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Baron Corbin - Fandom, Dean Ambrose - Fandom, Triple H - Fandom, WWE, WWE 2K (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Affairs, Drama, F/M, Funny, Multi, Romance, Wrestling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:02:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>46,058</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24725977</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ern_Boosk/pseuds/Ern_Boosk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stella Giordano has worked her whole wrestling career to make it to the Main Roster. When a botched debut threatens her spot, she’ll do anything to stay in the ring.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Baron Corbin/Original Character, Dean Ambrose/Original Character, Triple H/Original Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everyone loved to hate Jade West. She was vulgar, ruthless, completely irresistible--the Half-Pint Hellcat. I’d spent years perfecting her signature sneer, winning titles and making a name for both of us as I quickly climbed the ranks of NXT. The jeers fueled my fire, each hiss and hurtful word assuring me that I was doing my job. </p><p>Getting called up almost seemed expected at that point. I was examining myself in my full length mirror when my cell phone rang on my bed. My hair had been a mess in the two consecutive days I’d managed to have to myself and even though I’d failed to brush out the unruly maroon nest, I still managed to radiate where I stood. </p><p>“Looking forward to it,” I chuckled at the end of my conversation. “See you Monday.” </p><p>With a sigh, I danced idly into the bathroom, ready to join the rest of the world again at last. I was immediately greeted by the sight of gym clothes laying directly in front of the clothes hamper so plainly placed in the open. </p><p>“Are you kidding me?” I growled, scooping up the pile and pelting it at the motionless lump under my comforter. </p><p>With a grumble, a dazed man lifted his head and blinked a few times before sitting up to address me. “What happened?”</p><p>“You’re a pig, Jonathan.” </p><p>The blanket fell away from his bare chest as he swung his legs over the side, rubbing his bright red beard and removing the sleep from his eyes. “You can ask politely for me to move them, you know.” </p><p>“Clearly not,” I shrugged, scooping up the clothes once more to settle my upset stomach. “I’ve asked you not to do this every time you stay over.”</p><p>He exhaled impatiently, burying his face in his hands. “Who was that?” </p><p>I went back into the bathroom, aligning the various bottles along the back of the counter. “I got called up to Raw.”</p><p>“Well look at you,” he flirted, leaning in the doorway with his arms folded. “Baby girl’s playing with the big kids now.” </p><p>“Yeah, it only took my entire life away from me,” I laughed, sliding the hair tie from my head. “You can’t leave before Dean Ambrose and Jade West dominate a Mixed Match against Bayley and Seth.” </p><p>He laughed in an uninterested sort of way, ambling over to where I stood so that he could grip me by the waist. “That can’t happen and you know it.”</p><p>I wrinkled my nose. “Mm, you’re right. Renee would catch on quick, wouldn’t she?” </p><p>His face fell just as fast as his fingers, leaving me to prepare for my shower. “Stella…” </p><p>“I’m honestly baffled that we’ve been able to keep this up.” </p><p>“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he groaned, not once shifting from his casual position. “I mean they’re going to push you in ways you never thought possible for the next few months. They want to see where your limits are. They’re not going to stop until they break you so far down that you won’t remember where to draw the line between Stella Giordano and Jade West. NXT is cute and fun and all, but this is something serious.” </p><p>I turned around abruptly so that my nose practically came in contact with his chest. He still smelled like last night’s whiskey mixed with a light, enticing musk as he sank his fingers back into the skin of my waist.</p><p>“I think you’re scared.” I joked, pressing my index fingers into each of his pecs and pushing away playfully. “I’m not above calling you out for a future title. Anyone’s belt is fair game.” </p><p>“Oh yeah?” he locked his hands, only allowing me to turn so that my back was to him.</p><p>“I’ve got to get past Monday Night, that’s all.” </p><p>He released me except for my fingers with a pained look on his face. I frowned, waiting for him to escape from his headspace while he ran his thumb over my knuckles. In a split second, he was reaching for his shirt from the night before that I’d neatly folded and left on my desk chair. </p><p>“I’ll call you later, okay?” </p><p>“What’s up?” I had to ask. </p><p>He strode back over to me, cupping the back of my head with one hand and leaning down to kiss me just below my hairline. “Congratulations, Stell. I’ll see you Monday.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The arena was much bigger than what I was used to. I sat on the apron, leaning back on my palms to stare at the ceiling that seemed to be lost in darkness some miles above my head. Soon, I’d be staring at thousands of eager faces waiting for me to deliver my best performance yet. I should have been more nervous than I was, but my lack of sleep made it hard to process what was happening to me. </p><p>Dragging myself by the bottom rope, I slid onto the springy mat and rolled backwards until I was on my feet. All around me, superstars were lounging in arena seats, talking amongst themselves and getting in the zone the best way they knew how. Placing my feet on the second rope, I lifted myself so that I sat much higher than the crew running cables. From my perch, I could see a large suited man coming down the ramp pointing at a clipboard presented to him by a mousy young girl with a timid demeanor.</p><p>Upon seeing me, he nudged it aside and made a start in my direction with his arms outstretched. “How’s my girl?”</p><p>I took a deep breath, relaxing into his strong chest, locking my arms around his waist while he rubbed my back vigorously. “I’m okay. A little overwhelmed, but I’ll shake that in a minute.” </p><p>He was beaming down at me, now accompanied by Stephanie whose piercing gaze was warmer than I’d seen it in a while. She reached out to squeeze my hand, a gesture I’d become used to in my six years of being under their wings. This time, she held on longer, both of them standing before me like proud parents.</p><p>“Something tells me you’re at home, kid.” H stated with a satisfied smirk. </p><p>“I sure hope so,” I huffed, taking another scan of the arena. “I can’t thank you enough.” </p><p>“This,” H too me by the shoulder and gestured outward. “This was all you. Don’t thank me.” </p><p>“What’s my role tonight then?” I asked, taking another seat on the top rope while he leaned on the turnbuckles. </p><p>Stephanie chimed in. “We’ve been discussing this all weekend, where you’ll thrive most.”</p><p>“Tonight, you’ll be interrupting ‘A Moment Of Bliss’ during an interview with Ember Moon.” H explained. “We’ll see how they take to the rivalry and will decide where to place you from there.” </p><p>“Ember?” I asked with a nervous laugh. “But we were the best tag team for the longest time.” </p><p>“Until you got jealous of her joining Raw before you,” H corrected me.</p><p>“We really think it’ll spark a fire for both of you.” Stephanie added. “Two former friends with an underlying issue…” </p><p>“I guess,” i shrugged, catching the eye of Liv Morgan--whose real name I’d never cared to remember. </p><p>She waved furiously at me, forcing me into an uncomfortable smile and a half-wave brought on by a vague recollection of practicing bumps with her at the Performance Center. The pink hair really wasn’t cutting it for her, I noted, returning my attention to H and Steph with my arms folded across my chest. </p><p>“You’re going to do great,” Steph told me, dismissing herself by addressing someone who’d started walking away in the distance. “Make us proud, sweetie!” </p><p>Being left alone with H--Paul, he’d asked me to call him early on in our relationship--always felt strenuous. He continued watching me shift uncomfortably, scanning the room before he chose to speak again. </p><p>“I have a massive deal for you if you can pull this off tonight,” he whispered, trying to pretend like we were engaged in lighter conversation. “Challenge Ember and beat her tonight and I can ensure you that you’ll soar to the top of the roster before the first pay-per-view next season.” </p><p>“What?” I choked, dropping off of the top rope. </p><p>“She’s not going to know what hit her. It’s our secret.” H whispered.</p><p>“I mean…” </p><p>“Look,” he positioned me in the middle of the ring and raised my left hand in his own. “How does this feel, kid? Good, right? Let’s make it a reality. I didn’t pluck you out of that small town league for nothing. Show me what you’re good at. You haven’t let me down yet.” </p><p>I looked him deep in his eye, searching for the side of him who’d intended this conversation to be in good humor. He patted my shoulder one last time, sealing the deal on our conversation. “I’ll come to you ten minutes before your entrance. We’ll prepare you with some script guidelines. Be back for hair and makeup by 5.” </p><p>With that, he slipped under the ropes and exited the arena just as swiftly as he’d entered. I leaned on the top rope, planning my best maneuver for the evening. It took me a while to register the voice that was trying to cut through my subconscious, but when I did, I was grateful.</p><p>“Are you hungry?” </p><p>I turned around to face Tom Pestock, a face I hadn’t seen in person since he’d moved up from NXT. He was smirking at me with his hands in the pockets of his slacks, glancing around as if he was being secretive. </p><p>“I could definitely eat.” I responded, sliding under the ring and meeting him on the ground where I once again stood much lower than him. </p><p>“Nice to meet you, newbie,” he joked, extending his hand for me to shake. “My name is Thomas, best known as the Lone Wolf, Baron Corbin.” </p><p>I scoffed, aware that his attitude hadn’t changed since he started dating that cougar metal singer. “Blow me, Pestock.” </p><p>He nodded his head toward the ramp, beckoning me to follow his quick pace through the locker room and into the busy streets of Omaha. We ended up in a pub across the way that it seemed like few people might know about. He held the door open and steered me toward the farthest corner of the bar where no one was sitting. </p><p>“So what have you been up to, big shot?” he asked, settling into a glass of water as he scanned the menu. </p><p>“You follow me on Instagram,” I reminded him.</p><p>“No, dummy,” he rested his elbows on the bar. “What have you, Stella, been up to? We really haven’t talked.” </p><p>“I mean,” i began, taking a sip of water to stall. “I run a dance studio in Winter Park for budding choreographers.” </p><p>“You still knock back good whiskey?” he asked, eyeing me in a way I deemed odd. </p><p>I narrowed my eyes, settling on my prize. “Blanton’s, neat.” </p><p>“My God,” he exhaled, getting the attention of the bartender to order two shots. “You’re not a cheap date.” </p><p>I ignored his comment, thinking deeply about my task for the night. “So what have you been doing besides single-handedly ruining a brand?”</p><p>“Ouch,”  He drained the shot all at once, knocking back the amber liquid with no more than a wince. “I was making moves in my career, unlike you.” </p><p>“What’s going on here? Why are you talking to me?” </p><p>“I just want you to know that if you start to feel like no one has your back, you’ll have me.” </p><p>“Thanks,” I said wearily, slamming my whiskey and cringing against the fire in my chest.</p><p>“So what’s your plan for this interruption?” he asked, tucking into the sandwich that had just been placed in front of him.</p><p>My heart dropped. “I wish I could tell you.” </p><p>“Play their jealousy angle,” he advised, swiping the corner of his mouth with a napkin and leaning back. “It’ll get you on a Pay-Per-View in no time.”</p><p>“No offense, but I refuse to let you be the first person I take advice from.” I could see him trying to hold back a smile as I packed up my food. “And whose idea was it for you to go bald?” </p><p>“You like it?” he joked, turning in his stool to watch me leave.</p><p>“Thanks for lunch,” I called over my shoulder, making a hard break for my dressing room where I knew I’d be relatively safe.</p><p>Next thing I knew, I was being handed my bat--a tribute to Sting that I insisted remain a part of my costume through the wardrobe changes, the new hairstyles, and the experimental gimmicks. Immediately after, I was lost in my music, lowering my aviators over my eyes and stretching my prop above my head giving the world a full turn before placing my arm over the back of a surprised Ember’s chair. The mixture of jeers and whistles was drowned out by the blood rushing to my brain. I was living a dream that had yet to settle in. </p><p>“Oh, Ember, don’t look so surprised.” I purred once the reaction had died down. “Did you miss me?”</p><p>“Every time!” Alexa whined.</p><p>“Oh my gosh, Jade!” Ember squealed into her microphone. </p><p>“Save it!” I snapped, knocking her microphone out of her hand, sneering in her face as the crowd gave their mixed hollers again. “For years you left me to fend for myself in NXT. I had no one! Do you know how that feels, Ember?” </p><p>“Jade, I’m sorry,” she sighed, a pleading look in her eye. “It all happened so fast! I thought you were proud of me.” </p><p>“Of you?” I scoffed, bumping Alexa out of her seat. “Honey, I made you.” </p><p>I couldn’t tell how I felt about the response from the crowd. Mostly, I was feeling sick to my stomach. Lucky for me, Nia’s music began and I was left to duck in cover while they confronted each other about being the next contender for the Women’s Championship belt. My appearance ended with an ominous shot of me pointing my bat in their direction and disappearing when the arena went dark.</p><p>I jogged backstage to applause and multiple congratulations feeling light-hearted when I saw Adrienne, dressed like a warrior princess at the end of the walls of superstars. She closed the distance between us, wrapping her arms around my waist and hoisting me up in an enthusiastic bear hug.</p><p>“You killed it!” she laughed in my ear.</p><p>I spluttered, removing her fiery orange and red hair from my dark lipstick. “I was terrified,”</p><p>“Interview!” she said quickly, handing me over to the last person I wanted to see.</p><p>Renee flipped her short blonde waves over her shoulder and wrinkled her nose, placing me on a tiny black “x” beside hers. She pulled back the loose strand of hair that had fallen in my face and gained a solemn expression as the cameraman called “action” . </p><p>“Jade, you seem to have some pent up feelings towards Ember Moon. Does this mean we shouldn’t be expecting the greatest women’s tag team to reunite?” </p><p>She had the perfect face. Her round cheeks glistened under the flood of lights surrounding us. It was hard to look her in the eye as she pressed the microphone closer to my face, prompting me to speak as we both grew more uncomfortable by the second. She was majestic in a way, and much better than me. </p><p>With my knees knocking, I lifted one recently manicured finger and failed to find words for the woman whose life i was in the process of ruining. She stared at me with such concern, although I knew it was falsified for the cameras. All I could do was groan frantically and storm off towards my dressing room. I didn’t stop for anyone, even Triple H when he bellowed my name with a threatening tone. He met me at my door with a speed that I found uncanny for a man of his size. </p><p>“What the hell was that?” he hissed, shaking me by my shoulders. “You had an opportunity to really make your mark in this brand and you decide to storm off? The nerve of you!” </p><p>“I don’t know what I was thinking,” I lied, heart hammering in my chest. </p><p>He pointed a thick finger in my face, doing his best to keep the conversation as private as possible. “You’ll go home for the week. I’ll call you with your next move.” </p><p>“And what about Friday?”</p><p>“We’ll find someone to replace you on the card.” </p><p>With that, he walked off, leaving me no way of arguing the case. I gripped the door handle with white knuckles, watching him round the corner to begin shouting at someone else. </p><p>“You alright?” I heard from behind me.</p><p>I clenched my teeth, unwilling to deal with anymore insanity.</p><p>“Leave the door open,” I insisted. “I don’t want press to get any ideas.” </p><p>He gave me a lopsided grin and slammed the door behind both of us. “That was one hell of an interruption, Stell.” </p><p>“Okay,” I huffed. “Bye now.” </p><p>“What changed during the interview?” He said almost as if to mock me. </p><p>I opened the door and peered in both directions. “Goodbye.” </p><p>He threw his hands up in surrender, moving slowly as if to give me a chance to change my mind. His dress shoes sounded against the tile as he began to adjust his cuffs, chuckling to himself until he turned to face me again on the other side of the door. </p><p>“You’ll need to talk to someone.” he warned, raising one eyebrow at me before I slammed the door in his face, ready to go home to anxiously ponder my fate. I undressed, hanging my spandex and baseball button-up neatly to prevent them from wrinkling too much. I was a mess and I knew it--and there was no one that could save me</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“He’s replacing me on the NXT card this Friday!” </p><p>“That was a pretty big choke,” Jon commented, rotating his arm to relieve tension in his bad shoulder. “I’ll admit it was kind of hot, seeing the two of you share a screen.”  </p><p>“So you’re trying out for an indie company right now?” I inquired irritably, lowering into another squat and exploding upward with a sharp exhale. “Does she actually believe that?” </p><p>Jon, seated on the weight bench waiting for me to finish my sets, rubbed his face with his sweat rag and slammed it to the ground aggressively. “I’m here aren’t I?” </p><p>I replaced the barbell on the squat rack and stretched my knees. “Maybe your life wouldn’t be so difficult if you opened up once in a while.” </p><p>“Here we go again,” he snapped a little louder than I’d expected. “I don’t know what it is about you that keeps me coming back because you’re fucking annoying. Not everything needs to have an answer. Do you like what we’re doing?” </p><p>“Don’t patronize me, Jon.” I warned, gripping be bar again and beginning my last set. </p><p>“Answer the question.” he demanded, bringing his water bottle to his lips. </p><p>“What are you trying to prove?” </p><p>“See how silly questions can be?” He chuckled, taking another gulp of water and tossing the half empty container aside as he ducked under the bar to stand behind me. “You should really try to keep your back straighter.” </p><p>“Easy, lunatic.” I shot with a coy grin at him in the mirror. </p><p>“Your core is your life,” he argued. “Point your toes and squeeze your shoulder blades together before you end your career.” </p><p>I did as he suggested, letting him hold my hips and guide me down into the perfect squat. “See how much better that feels?”</p><p>“Are you flirting with me?” I joked, turning my head so that I could see him looking down at me. “At 2AM in a hotel gym?” </p><p>He lifted the bar from my shoulders and set it on the weight bench, turning to me with a grave look in his eye. “I think I’m leaving Renee.” </p><p>“Surprise,” I raised an eyebrow. “You think?” </p><p>“I’m trying this whole ‘opening up’ thing and you’re being a complete dick.” he snapped. </p><p>With a slight laugh, I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. Talk to me.” </p><p>“We’ve had more problems than anyone knows about.” he explained, his once intense eyes darkened by exhaustion and the burden of secrecy. “This--all of this--my life, that is--it’s just one big toxic formula. And yes, Stella, I have been drinking a lot more. I’ve got a lot going on.” </p><p>I chose not to respond, unsure of how far he’d put himself down in the time that he’d aired his grievances. Before I knew it, he was stomping for he door. My first instinct was to follow him, but my gut kept me rooted to the spot. As if something unseen had told me correctly, he marched right back for me, stopping just shy of knocking me down. </p><p>“I think it’s because she has no clue,” he said, calculating something in his head. “I can’t be with someone so superficial. I spend more time away from home nowadays and she really thinks I’m working my ass off in a different state between tapings. If I were her, I’d be sifting through my things right now.” </p><p>My weight subconsciously shifted to one hip. “See how much better that feels?” </p><p>He stared at me for longer than I’d ever seen him stare before. His pale blue eyes managed to glimmer even in the half lit empty weight room. Though I knew he wouldn’t admit it later, I saw the corner of his mouth flick upward as he nodded in defeat and turned for the door.  </p><p>“Annoying,” </p><p>“I’m not the one who keeps calling,” I shouted after him, picking up the bar again so that I could finish the set he’d so rudely cut short. </p><p>From my peripherals, I could see him contemplate coming back. Instead, he exited with one last look up and down at my form. “Watch that back.” </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Back at home at last, I showed up at the Performance Center where coach Bloom tried to pretend like he didn’t know what was going on. I shook my head sheepishly, hoping to pass by without so much as a few words of welcome. </p><p>“Norman’s got some free time if you have any questions,” he offered after asking me how I was. “I’d help you, but I have a conference call--”</p><p>“I’m alright, Coach,” i assured him. “I just need to work some things out.” </p><p>He gestured into the Center with a sympathetic smirk, passing by EC3 on a bike machine. He gave a hearty wave, uneager to remove his headphones. I delivered a quick head nod and made my way to the ring which I was pleased to find was unoccupied. </p><p>“I thought I’d find you here.” said that unwelcome voice before I even had a chance to enjoy solitude. </p><p>“Hell!” I exclaimed, hoping Tom would take me starting my music as a hint. “The ring is in use, thanks.”</p><p>As I started to bounce off of each side of the ropes, he caught me on the far side, gripping my hands so that I couldn’t let go. “I overheard H and Vince talking after you left.” </p><p>Sadly, he had my full attention. I stopped my music and slid under the ropes, watching him hop down the lean on the apron beside where I was sitting. </p><p>“I’m screwed, right?” </p><p>He pondered, motioning in a wishy-washy fashion with one long, bony hand. “Not necessarily.” </p><p>“So am I still on the card for NXT?” </p><p>“No,” he said quickly, raising a finger to my lips before I could protest. “However, it’s to build up talk. They’re looking to have you back on Raw if the response is good.”</p><p>“So it’s just a waiting game?” </p><p>“Again, not necessarily,” He sauntered to my other side, leaning his back against the ring, looking around for eavesdroppers. “We both need something that the other can give.” </p><p>“And just what is that?” I snorted, hopping to the ground in conclusion that my workout was over. </p><p>“I can get you a permanent slot on the Raw roster.” </p><p>“H can get me that,” I sneered.</p><p>“Not after Monday Night,” he said under his breath. “They want to play off your silence, get you a manager who’ll take care of the talking for a while.” </p><p>“Absolutely not,” I raged, whipping around and stopping him from coming any closer to me. “I’m not going to accept intel from someone desperate for a spot on the card. There’s nothing you can do for me. Besides, what good would Jade West and Baron Corbin be together? You can barely cut a promo yourself.” </p><p>“At least I can get words out,” </p><p>The rage in my chest was hard to control, but I stormed off before I could lift a finger in his direction. “Buzz off, why don’t you?”</p><p>“You’ll see,” he called after me. “You’ll see,” </p><p> </p><p>The call had shaken me to my core. When I heard Triple H’s gruff voice allowing me back on Raw that Monday, it felt like being allowed more time to live. I hurriedly packed my bags and flew out to Raleigh on no sleep once more. </p><p>“Let’s see how you feel about this,” he propositioned with no hint of merriment in his tone. “You have two options now, if you’d like to remain on Raw. Either we pair you with a manager who does all the talking for you or we pair you with a manager who does most of the talking for you.”</p><p>I froze, recalling my conversation with Thomas at the Center. “Who do you have in mind?” </p><p>“Lesson one,” said Thomas from the other side of the door. “Timing is everything.”</p><p>I grit my teeth at him, sure to conceal my disgust from H on the other side of his temporary desk. </p><p>“You two are going to make waves together,” he said proudly. “Tonight, I want you two to interfere in Ember’s contender match against Sasha Banks for a spot in the Money In the Bank ladder match in three weeks.”</p><p>“I promise it won’t happen again. I broke kayfabe--”</p><p>“And that’s unacceptable,” H cut me off. “Now either you deal with having a manager for the time being until we’re confident enough in you to write him out of your storyline. Either that or you can kiss this opportunity goodbye for a long time.” </p><p>It was hard to argue with the man who’d made me. As if the deal had been sealed by his words alone, he looked between the two of us, Thomas straightening his vest and making sure his chest stuck out, me slouching like an idiot, unsure of what message to send with my intense gaze. </p><p>“Well, shake hands you two--partners.” </p><p>Tom extended his hand in my direction making me feel like I was selling my soul the longer I looked at his spindly digits. Reluctantly, I gripped his palm, allowing his free hand to cover mine. “Jade West, I’m going to make you a star.”</p><p>“You will not utter a single word to the camera until I receive word from your personality trainer that you’ve shown improvement. Baron will take over your backstage interview tonight and then you will return home to prepare for NXT. Do not let me down.” </p><p>When he left the room, Tom had no hesitation striking up conversation. “So why did you choke?”</p><p>“None of your concern,” I snapped.</p><p>“Actually, partner,” he snickered, edging closer, daring me to strike. “You are now my main concern. I’m going to see you more than I see my own wife sometimes. Get used to it, babe.” </p><p>“Fuck me,” I whispered, heading for the ramp only to be stopped by Renee. “Fuck me,” </p><p>“Hey, I never got a chance to introduce myself,” she said cheerfully. “I’m Renee. Welcome aboard!” </p><p>“Yow,” I said before I could stop myself. “I mean thank you.” </p><p>“Okay, we’re going to stand about here,” she instructed, gripping me uncomfortably by the elbows. </p><p>I shook her loose, slightly startled by how soft her hands were. Whose did Jon think were softer? She was speaking to me, her elegant chin jerking in the direction of the camera as her muffled words failed to make it past my ear drums. Renee Young was even more gorgeous in person than I could have imagined. She was so petite, her figure resembling mine with just one missing element that I couldn’t put my finger on.</p><p>“Got it, Stell?” Tom asked in my ear, prompting me to quit being mute. “She’s asking you a question…” </p><p>“Oh, uh…” I looked back at Renee for a split second. “Sorry?” </p><p>“Christ,” Tom huffed, positioning me behind him and folding my arms in front of my chest for me and then putting my aviators over my eyes. “You’re really stupid.” </p><p>“Excuse me,” I started, freezing in fear as the camera man pointed in Renee’s direction.</p><p>“Last week, Jade, you failed to comment on your words with Ember Moon. How are you feeling about these weeks leading up to Money In the Bank?” </p><p>Tom, with his best Baron suave, motioned for me to stay silent before turning back to Renee with a solemn gaze. “Renee, my new client has chosen to remain silent until she gets exactly what she wants.” </p><p>“And what is that?” Renee asked.</p><p>“Silly girl,” Baron chuckled, looking down at me briefly. “My client’s going straight for the gold, or more appropriately, the money.”</p><p>We could hear boos erupt from the other side of the curtain, a reaction that Baron was used to hearing and I was not. He soaked it up and I decided to follow his lead, twitching my stoic lips and shifting my weight. </p><p>“How do you intend to get into the match on such short notice?” </p><p>“We have our ways, Renee. Just wait and see. The Hellcat and the Lone Wolf will not be stopped.”</p><p>He pulled me by the wrist, something the camera couldn’t see, leaving her to stare ponderously at the floor as the camera cut to the next angle. My heart was racing when he stopped me around the corner and ran his hands over his clean shaven head. </p><p>“Whoops,” </p><p>“How are you going to get me into the Money In the Bank match, Thomas?” I growled, shoving him by his torso. “You’re making me look like an idiot!” </p><p>“Will you relax?” He shouted, gripping my shoulders and holding me far away from him. “I got this.” </p><p>“You saying that really makes me nervous considering how your career has gone.” I guffawed.</p><p>He pursed his lips, his eyebrows flattening across his face. “This is why everyone got the Call-Up before you.” </p><p>As he stormed off, I removed one of my wrist bands and pegged it at the back of his head. He made no reaction to the impact except to raise one middle finger in the air as he continued on down the hallway. My career flashed before my eyes as I slid down the wall with a massive headache.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Had Vince not laughed off Thomas’ ambitious proposition during the interview, we’d both be out of a job. Lucky for us, it had been making for storyline gold--ambitious newbie and her notoriously ridiculous manager come out of the gates ready to conquer all. It worked for him which had to work for us. I was beginning to feel like a fool, even though it earned me a spot as interference in the ladder match that evening, </p><p>I was beginning to feel like I was becoming a huge joke to everyone around me. Even though I received many words of encouragement, I couldn’t help but make up what they were saying behind my back.Nia had been especially nice to me, something I’d learned from the most recent newcomers that meant she had an agenda. Her pointers for my drops were helpful, but I always had to second guess any piece of advice she gave me. </p><p>We officially had three weeks until SummerSlam and I hadn’t seen Jonathan in nearly a month. I knew he’d kicked his training into high gear but it was unlike him to not even give a five-minute call here and there. In his absence, I’d managed to focus all of my energy into keeping myself from strangling Thomas. Even though I never cared to admit it, he’d done wonders for me. I’d won my first match against Liv Morgan whose name I still hadn’t learned even in the hours we’d spent practicing together. It was becoming a sweet deal--until that one day in August. </p><p>Thomas and I walked out of the ring after I’d helped him confront Braun Strowman for the umpteenth time to the sounds of a crew member shouting for Seth Rollins. Colby, rocking his purple tights and a slicked back ponytail, excused himself as he pushed between the two of us, flicking his eyebrows upward in my direction in momentary acknowledgment. </p><p>“I’m very impressed,” said a gruff voice that could put the fear of God in any of the grown men around me. </p><p>Thomas and I turned to face Mr. McMahon, old but not broken, dressed as cleanly as always in a light gray suit. Most everyone around us had lost interest in their own conversations, always keen to know what he had to say to who. I smiled, hoping my reign of silence was finally over.</p><p>“Thank you, Mr. McMahon,” I said before Tom could dominate yet another conversation for me. “That really means a lot.” </p><p>“I want you two in this year’s Mixed Match Challenge.” </p><p>“No kidding,” Tom and I both breathed at the same time. </p><p>“And next week, to showcase and foreshadow, you’ll be taking on Alexa Bliss and Braun Strowman.” </p><p>Thomas and I exchanged a look. Knowing that he was in as much disbelief as me was slightly unsettling, but I couldn’t stop thinking about myself long enough to care. After some quick handshakes, we were left to silently celebrate with only a few good eavesdroppers in on the secret. </p><p>“We need a name, a wardrobe change--for you,” Thomas began listing. </p><p>“We have a lot of time to think about that,” I reminded him, clutching at my ribcage where I’d hit the steel steps when Braun knocked me off the apron. </p><p>There was a small pinch on my buttocks that startled me. Jon brushed past me, only catching my eye long enough to wink before his music started and the crowd went insane. I rolled my eyes and headed for medical while Thomas stuck around to watch the return of the Lunatic Fringe. </p><p>He really did look good out there, I thought to myself, stopping in front of one of the televisions to watch him in action. It didn’t surprise me when I was interrupted by Renee sighing and shaking her head at the same screen I was watching. </p><p>“He’s been so nervous about this,” she said with so much love in her eyes. “They told him he was getting his own ‘Chronicle’ on super-short notice, so to add to the stress of returning to television, he’s already got cameras in his face when he’s at his most vulnerable. Sorry, I don’t mean to ramble and I know you barely know me. It’s just--I hear so much about you.”</p><p>“From who?” I asked, quickly realizing that my reaction was bad. </p><p>“Paige--Saraya--she talks about you all the time. When she heard the decision was to bring you straight to Raw, she couldn’t stop ranting about what a beautiful person you are.”</p><p>“How sweet of her,” I replied weakly, a broken smile etching itself across my face. “Ouch--these ribs are tender. I’ll talk to you later!” </p><p>I ran off quickly, still gripping my side all the way to the brightly lit room with foldable cushioned tables were lined up side-by-side. Seeing Finn Balor post-fight, grinning from ear to ear with ice bags strewn across his body was always comical to me. Top it off with his thick Irish accent and he could have easily been a cartoon character. </p><p>“Those steps are no joke,” he laughed, gesturing at the bed beside him. “You took that hit like a champ though. Excellent brace. That wasn’t scripted, was it?”</p><p>I shook my head, lowering myself and lifting my arm so that Dr. Amann could examine me like he’d done for years.”I don’t think Thomas meant to throw him to that side. We never talked about it because Vince pulled us aside to let us know we’re a part of the Mixed Match Challenge this year.” </p><p>“No breaks, just bruising,” the big buff blonde told me. “You’re going to feel it for your next few matches, but try to take it easy in between.” </p><p>Once the doctor had disappeared, Fergal propped himself up on his good shoulder and leaned as close as he could to whisper. “When you find yourself slowing down a bit, let me know so I can buy you a drink.” </p><p>“What if I told you I don’t drink?” </p><p>“I’d call you a really bad liar,” he chuckled, wincing when his shoulder jerked upward. “There’s a really nice bar in Orlando that not many people know of. I think you’d be the type to appreciate such a thing.” </p><p>“Well look at you, being able to read a person.”</p><p>Once he was free to walkabout, he took his many ice bags and hobbled from the physician’s room giving me a fist bump on his way out. As I got my last glimpse of him, Dr. Amann, who I’d come to know and love like an actual caretaker, clicked his tongue disappointedly at me. </p><p>“You just turned down the most wholesome guy here.” </p><p>“I didn’t turn him down,” I argued. “And he wasn’t asking me out. Mind your business, doc.”</p><p>“Your health--physical and mental--is my business. Go get that free drink. I’m telling you, you won’t regret it. But for now, go get some sleep.” </p><p>I pursed my lips, thanking him with playful aggression as I slid off of the table and slipped into the hallway with an ice bag stuck to me. Sasha and Bayley smiled at me as I passed, but didn’t divert their attention from The Bella Twins who’d been making more and more appearances backstage. Continuing down the hall, I saw Renee engaged in half-hearted conversation with her fellow commentators, her gaze trailing off from time to time like she just couldn’t keep focused. My phone rang in the backpack that was slung over my shoulder. I couldn’t bring myself to do anything except completely ignore the call, knowing he’d left me hanging for a lot longer than that.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>A video chat with Saraya never failed to make me feel at least a little better in any given situation. I was glad to have finally gotten ahold of her, laughing when I saw she was just as eccentric as always with her large sunglasses and Wednesday Addams inspired swimwear. In her deep exotic accent, she greeted me with a, “Hello, my love!”</p><p>“Did you forget about me all the way over on the west coast?” I asked dramatically, throwing my bed head waves over one shoulder so that she couldn’t see the movement in my living room. </p><p>“Of course not,” she cooed, handling something I couldn’t see but could only assume was her attention craving dog. “You know the lifestyle now. Congratulations, by the way. I haven’t been able to reach out!” </p><p>“It’s been a journey,” I smirked, watching Jonathan keep to himself putting together a cat tower for my curious little critter who sat on the edge of the dining room where he’d made himself space. “I never saw myself with a manager though. I’ll tell you that.” </p><p>Saraya’s rose petal lips puckered. “Mm, be careful of that one, yeah. This just feels like the next chapter in his selfish agenda.”</p><p>“You’re telling me,” I murmured, resting my cheek on the fist I’d propped up on my counter. “But we’re really making it work for now.” </p><p>“For now--you know him just as well as I do, Stella. Use your judgment.” </p><p>“Hi, Stella!” I heard off-camera. </p><p>“Oh yeah, that’s right,” I laughed. “How’s Ronnie?” </p><p>“He’s an absolute doll. I’m speechless. Now who has your heart these days?” </p><p>I slipped into the hallway and tiptoed up the stairs, turning on my bluetooth speaker to hopefully drown out the rest of our conversation. “Raya, I have a massive problem.”</p><p>“It’s not another married man, is it?” she joked before she saw the look of distress and shame on my face. “Stella Marina, you’re a nightmare!”</p><p>“He’s talking about leaving his wife.” I stated as if it’d make a difference. </p><p>“Do I know the man?” she asked scornfully.</p><p>“You do,” I admitted, pushing my hair from my face and falling back on the bed.</p><p>“Then this has to stop. I don’t care who it is! Stella, if anyone finds out, you’re a goner!” </p><p>“Not if…” i searched for an argument, failing to find anything rational about being a certified homewrecker. </p><p>“Stella,” Jon called through the other side of the door. “I think your damn cat ate one of the screws.”</p><p>I stared down at my equally horrified friend whose glasses were now on the tip of her nose. “Was that…”</p><p>“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised,” I called back with a break in my voice as I bolted for the bathroom.</p><p>“Jonathan? Well that explains the interview!” </p><p>“He’s talking about leaving her,” I repeated, hoping it would make a difference the second time. </p><p>“I don’t want to know anything else,” she shouted over me, waving her free hand in front of the camera. “I love you so much, you monster, but I refuse to help you with this situation at all.”</p><p>“What are you doing?” Jon asked, peering around the double doors.</p><p>“We’ll talk later!” I said quickly, hitting the end-call button quicker than I’d ever done in my life. </p><p>“I know she knows.” he followed me back down the stairs. “Not to mention Renee tells her everything. I’m sure she recently got an earful.”</p><p>“Maybe we should stop this,” I suggested, gesturing between the two of us. </p><p>He laughed almost arrogantly, “Why do you say that?” </p><p>“Because,” I stammered, trying to keep him from putting his hands on me. “I don’t want to be the reason your marriage goes bad.” </p><p>“You’re not the reason,” he whispered into my neck. “But you’re definitely an incentive.”</p><p>I tried one last time to keep him from trailing his hands down my spine, giggling when he picked me up and carried me back up the stairs. We fell back onto the bed, me laying on his torso. </p><p>“She’s trying to be friends with me,” I said, pulling my loose hair away from his face.</p><p>“She likes to be friends with everybody.” he shrugged it off, planting his lips against mine to keep me from pressing the issue. </p><p>“Jon,” I mumbled against the scruff of his mustache. </p><p>“No,” he pleaded. “Let’s not talk about it.” </p><p>“We need to.” I insisted, sitting up against his wishes. “What happens after you two split up?”</p><p>He grit his teeth, slowly rising so that we were both sitting on the edge of the bed with her hands between our knees. “I move out of a house I’ve never been too fond of and get to be who I thought I was becoming all along.”</p><p>“And what about us?” I prompted. “Will the thrill of secrecy wear off and you forget about me?” </p><p>“You really like me, don’t you?” </p><p>“You’re the one dropping money on plane tickets and building cat trees.” I pointed out with a shrug. </p><p>The doorbell served as a perfect interruption. He peered down the stairs through the frosted glass window. “Looks like your manager’s here.” </p><p>I rolled my eyes, letting Jonathan push past me to head for the second staircase. He was laughing, I could tell, listening to Thomas rap incessantly on the door. </p><p>“Stella! We have work to do, Stella!” </p><p>“I’m taking your car,” Jon asked from the kitchen. </p><p>Sick to my stomach, I bolted to the front door and yanked Thomas inside. He was in his typical Liar’s Club gear, already sporting knee pads like he was ready for practice. Upon entering, he caught sight of the partially assembled cat tree and nodded his head toward it. </p><p>“Need some help?” </p><p>“What could you possibly want on our one day off?” </p><p>He began opening each door he found until we were in the basement. “We’re going to be Raw Women’s Champion this week.”</p><p>“You really expect me to be the one to beat her?” </p><p>“It takes one simple move that I can’t believe no one else has tried.” he explained, tossing pillows about until he had a small makeshift ring in the center of my floor. </p><p>“You realize that I have trainers for this, right?” </p><p>“Let’s get one things straight,” he stopped his assembly to address me head-on. “Trainers haven’t seen what I’ve seen. Now get down there.”</p><p>I sat cross-legged, letting him throw one leg over my lap and lock his ankles. “Are you sure this is actually safe? You’re over a foot taller than me...” </p><p>“It’s practice. I’m not going to snap your arm.” he responded flatly, hooking his right arm around mine so that he could apply slight pressure. “Now lock your fingers.” </p><p>I did as I was told, feeling the force of his pull as I kept my fingers tight. “Can you get your hamstring off of my windpipe?” </p><p>“Are you going to ask Ronda that in the ring?” he patronized me. “Now, I’m going to force your arms forward and we’re going to assume that’ll break your finger lock when I apply more pressure under your elbow. When I do that, take your free hand and grab my wrist.”</p><p>“You’re insane.” I huffed, doing as I was told in half-speed. </p><p>“Time it out. Feel your opponent. Now sink your other shoulder underneath you and you’re free!” he clapped, falling backwards. “She starts with a figure-four lock, but you can feel when the grip changes.” </p><p>“I really feel like I should practice that with someone her height.” </p><p>“No, trust me.” he insisted, resetting us and taking no time to begin the lesson again. “Let’s go!”</p><p>He bent my arm back in such a way that brought my hips off of the ground. “Thomas, God!” </p><p>“Take this seriously.” He snapped. “She’s going to come at you fast. If you time it out, you can escape this with no hassle because you’re small.” </p><p>I stared at him, massaging my shoulder, but I still allowed him to lock his ankles around me once more. He waited for me to lock my arms and proceeded to break the link. As instructed, I gripped his wrist before he could slide it up to my fingers to complete the armbar. When I broke free and dropped my shoulder to the floor, he kept hold of the hand I’d put on him, flipping around me and managing to execute yet another armbar to my opposite arm. He acted impressed when I kept my fingers locked tight enough to roll backward with him to the point where I was on my feet. </p><p>“Keep that maneuver in your arsenal and you’ll at least lose with dignity. Show me your signature.” </p><p>“I don’t have one,” I told him. </p><p>“Well let’s get you one,” Thomas clapped my shoulders. “Muta lock.”</p><p>“Not happening,” I snorted.</p><p>He lay on his stomach and crossed his ankles in the air. “Do you want to get rid of me or not? Get over here so I can make you a star.” </p><p>With that point in mind, I did my best to cross his large legs and lock his foot behind my knee. When I leaned into a back end, he grunted uncomfortably.</p><p>“Pull,” he demanded with my hands on his windpipe, pulling his neck back to his legs. “Pull, dammit!” </p><p>I gave up, falling sideways into one of the pillow walls. “I need to practice on someone my own size!”</p><p>“Then how are you supposed to beat Nia Jax when that time comes?” He argued. “Now, if you want to perfect this lock, you need to use that gymnast background and stand back up when you start to pull. I know you can.” </p><p>He helped me set up the lock and I went back into a backbend, gripping him just under his chin and pulling upward. It made sense in practice, but standing back up while he was my victim was impossible considering he was mostly leg and a few bulky muscles. </p><p>We practiced for another hour or so, ending with him clotheslining me around the basement like a rag doll. I couldn’t say that I felt stronger, but I definitely did feel more prepared. He concluded our training by extracting a cigar box from the duffel bag he’d brought with him. </p><p>“So how come Baron Corbin’s such a punk?” I had to ask, taking in the sweet-tasting smoke with ease. </p><p>“Not a punk,” he defended, clamping the cigar between his teeth. “Just a heel.”</p><p>“Then why are you down here with me?” I had to ask, taking it back from him and staring into the treeline in my backyard. </p><p>He scratched his chin, dragging the tobacco long enough to give him time to think of an answer. “Why are you up here with us? Why didn’t you get the Call-Up when the rest of us did? They have their plans for us. You were making them too much money to go anywhere. I’m down here with you because we have a story to tell.”</p><p>It humbled me, knowing that he was right. He ashed into the grass below us and examined the burning end. “I got lucky, didn’t I?” </p><p>Tom smirked. “You shot yourself in the foot and walked away without a limp, kid. H must really see something in you.”</p><p>He turned to exit without saying anything else to me, knowing he’d just left me with a lot to think about. I almost didn’t see him leave until I heard his engine fire up and his music became a little more coherent through his open windows. The rest of my night was spent stewing in a replay of what had even gotten me here in the first place. I wasn’t even a wrestler--just a dancer/gymnast with enough fire to bring a whole house down night after night.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By now, I was used to Alexa appealing to the devil in me. She slipped through my door, panting like she’d just sprinted from the other side of town with a folded piece of paper that she extended to me with the hand that wasn’t clutching her knee. </p><p>“We’re going to… a rock show… hurry.” she huffed as I took the paper.</p><p>I squinted at the page. “Sylar at the Bowery Ballroom?” </p><p>“You’ll like them, trust me,” she said a little more calmly, massaging her bruised calf. “We don’t have time to waste, though. They go on in ten minutes and they’re about that far away.” </p><p>“We have to fly to Austin in the morning.” I reminded her.</p><p>“When has a lack of sleep ever killed either of us? We’re invited to the afterparty and I’ve been dying to meet these guys for months. What if I told you that your boyfriend, or manager, or whatever is going to be there?” </p><p>“Thomas?” I choked, shaking my head vigorously. “Why would you even say something like that?” </p><p>“I know what I see,” she murmured, interrupted by a quick knock at the door. </p><p>I tiptoed over in my bare feet on the cold floor and cracked it open to face Jon, dressed in a sweatsuit that made the denim clinging to my thighs start to feel uncomfortable. He leaned his shoulder in the doorway, talking to me through what little space I allowed.</p><p>“What are you up to?” </p><p>“Go away,” I hissed, biting my lip nervously as I tried to shut the door. </p><p>“Who’ve you got in there?” he asked, half jokingly, blocking my attempt. “Don’t tell me you and Pestock finally caved to the chemistry.” </p><p>“No,” I groaned with a hard eye roll. </p><p>“Who’s that?” Alexa wrenched open the door, surprised to see Jonathan standing there. “Are you coming too?”</p><p>He glanced at me questioningly, allowing me to explain. “We’re going to catch a band.” </p><p>Staring between the two of us, he slowly started to back away with one eyebrow cocked. “Hard pass--see you two in Austin.” </p><p>I watched him walk away, curious to see if he’d turn back around, but once he rounded the corner, Alexa cut through my thoughts. “Are you coming or what? I’m going to rip you to shreds if I miss this!” </p><p>As we entered the hall, I could hear the sound of hurried high heels approaching accompanied by Renee’s agitated voice. “Well how am I supposed to know if you don’t tell me?--yes, Jon, I--am I going to actually see you tonight or are you going to pass out in someone else’s suite like you always do?”</p><p>Her expression let me know that he’d hung up. Alexa and I had turned around out of curiosity and my heart was hammering. She pocketed her cell phone, doing her best to make a joke of it all knowing she’d been overheard. </p><p>“Men are children.” she kept pace with us, throwing an arm over Alexa’s shoulder. “Aren’t you about to tie one down soon?” </p><p>Alexa wrinkled her nose. “Not anymore--like you said, children.” </p><p>“He’s just been so busy lately,” Renee began to vent, forcing my stomach to do a flip. “I’ve barely seen him since he said he was planning on making his return. I swear the second the doctors told him how close he’d been to dying, a switch flipped for him. All of a sudden, he had to accomplish everything he thought he wouldn’t be able to. He’s been practically living at the Performance Center. I think he spends a total of two weeks a month in Florida now.” </p><p>“Oh, Renee,” Alexa cooed sympathetically, hugging the modelesque woman around her middle. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” Renee replied, looking at us both. “That was completely rude of me to just throw that at you two. I’m sure you’re about to go do something lovely.” </p><p>“I’m finally seeing Sylar--in their hometown, no less! Renee, you should come with us.” Alexa insisted, leaning forward to address me. “Wouldn’t that be fun, Stell?” </p><p>No--I replied in my head.</p><p>“Girl’s night,” I said weakly, allowing Renee to link elbows with me.</p><p>“Thanks for this. Lord knows I need to cut loose for a second. I’ve just been waiting for him. Waiting--waiting--waiting like a good wife.” </p><p>She’s not even drunk yet--I noted, terrified for what kind of night was about to unfold. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I’d managed to spill half of my bar tab on myself front and center in a crowd that wasn’t afraid to physically connect. My subpar ribs had been protected by Thomas as he stood behind me to block the brunt of it. I was oddly grateful for the guy, but I also knew how much I’d had to drink and wasn’t trusting my upfront feelings. By the end of the show, we’d caught a second wind that carried us backstage where I soon found myself wrapped in a sweaty embrace.</p><p>I got a good look at the soft spoken Queens native, tattooed heavily from the neck down underneath his windbreaker. He removed his snapback and pressed it to his chest in a chivalrous greeting, displaying the japanese art forever printed atop his bald head. </p><p>“It is an absolute pleasure to meet you, Miss…” he prompted with a deep, thick accent.</p><p>“Call me Stella, really.” I insisted, letting his pearly smile infect my soul.</p><p>Once our greetings were out of the way and more drinks were in our hands, I pulled Thomas aside to what I hoped was out of earshot of everyone else. “Have you been hearing anything?” </p><p>“Anything like what?” </p><p>“Like a rumor going around about us,” </p><p>“Stella,” he laughed, starting back for the group. “Stella, Stella, Stella, of course there are going to be rumors. We’re a male and a female working together. Get over yourself.” </p><p>“One last thing,” I urged, grabbing him by the back of his shirt.</p><p>“We’re partying. Stop thinking so much.” </p><p>He touched his cup to mine and led the way back to the group who’d been discussing places in the city and where in the world was the most beautiful. I had very little to contribute for fear of giving anything away in Renee’s presence. Next thing I knew, it was three in the morning and I was expected at the airport in three hours. We all made haste to get to our hotel rooms for what little bit of sleep we’d be able to get. </p><p>I was lucky enough to be on a flight with my fiery-haired nemesis so that I could sleep off the last few drinks of the night on her shoulder like the old days. We joked like we used to before my adrenaline finally leveled out and I was shutting my stinging eyes. </p><p>“Adrienne,” i mumbled sleepily. </p><p>“What’s up, girl?” </p><p>I took a deep breath, ready to let some weight off of my chest with a simple question. “If you hear anything off-putting about me, do you promise to come to me before you make any final judgment calls?” </p><p>“I’m not one for the drama, silly. You know that.” she said idly, “Sounds like someone’s getting into a bit of trouble.” </p><p>I chuckled softly, failing to answer when sleep became too heavy on my mind. I woke up in boiling Austin with a text message from a contact I’d only marked with an orange heart emoji. </p><p>GET SETTLED AND MEET ME AT JOSEPHINE HOUSE--said the Lunatic from wherever he may have been. </p><p>I dropped off my things at the hotel against my better judgment and grabbed a quick coffee from the lobby. It didn’t occur to me until the caffeine hit my system that I’d been ignoring calls from Thomas. With the phone to my ear, I hopped in a cab and clutched at my temples. </p><p>“Are you alive?” he asked groggily. </p><p>“Barely,” I laughed. “I’m about to go get breakfast and head to the arena for the day.”</p><p>“Remember what you’re doing tonight.” He warned me. “We need you at a full one hundred tonight. Eat, rest--”</p><p>“I’m fine, trust me.” I assured him. </p><p>We ended the call as the cab pulled up to a little blue cottage already teeming with people on the patio. I took a deep breath of the moisture riddled air and took a few steps forward with butterflies in my stomach. They quickly turned to nausea at the thought of Renee and I actually having a good night out. I was still a mess and there was still no one that could save me.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Breakfast was disgusting and we ended up ordering room service and passing out in my suite--surprise, right? He was shaking me idly, murmuring something into his pillow when I came around in the early afternoon light. It was then that I noticed my cell phone vibration on the nightstand.</p><p>“Yeah,” I rasped, sitting up slightly. </p><p>“Superstar,” H bellowed into my receiver, startling me into nearly dropping my phone in the tangle of sheets. “Are you ready for tonight?” </p><p>“Of course,” </p><p>“This is huge for you, kid. You know that.” </p><p>“What’s going on, H?” I finally asked, bringing Jonathan to an upright position at the sound of the name. </p><p>“I’m not calling you as your boss, Stella.” Him saying my actual name was always gave me an odd feeling that I couldn’t explain. “I’m calling you as your mentor and someone who believes in you. I know it’s been a wild road. You’ve been doing so well and this is only going to boost you further. I guess I just want you to know that we’re all rooting for you over here.”</p><p>“That means a lot. Wow, thank you,” was all I could say with my knees pulled up to my chest.</p><p>“You do what I know you can out there tonight and soon, you’ll be at the top, kid.” </p><p>He hung up before I had a chance to reply, leaving Jon to trace circles in the back of my shirt with a quick breath of laughter. “How did he find you again?” </p><p>“Same way you did,” I smirked, letting my hair down so that I could get ready to head to the arena. “I was doing something wrong during a workshop.”</p><p>“Yeah, you’re still a rotten grappler,” he mumbled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. </p><p>I tried putting him in a chokehold only for him to jokingly sink his teeth into my forearm. With a shocked but playful cry, I tried rolling away from him but he held on and did what he was best at--turning things into lessons.</p><p>“Get back here and lock your ankles around my waist.” </p><p>“We have to go.” I urged him.</p><p>With a stern look over his shoulder, he kept a grip on my wrist. “Don’t you have the most important match of your life thus far coming up?” </p><p>I huffed, wrapping my legs around his chiseled waist and waiting for further instruction with a sarcastic smirk. “What next, coach?”</p><p>“Do that weak hold you were just doing.” he laughed, guiding my elbow around his throat. “Don’t be afraid. Pull me back.” </p><p>A knock at the door startled us both. Then, Fergal’s voice threw me for a massive loop. “Hey, Stella, I need your help with something.” </p><p>“Oh?” Jonathan whispered with raised eyebrows. “You part of the Balor Club?” </p><p>“Fuck off,” I hissed at him as I crammed him into the bathroom. </p><p>When I opened the door, he was leaning against the frame with a bouquet of neon daisies and a sheepish grin. “Sorry, is this corny? I’m just so excited for you.” </p><p>I awkwardly accepted them, watching Jonathan peer at me through the small crack in the door. “Well this was unexpected.” </p><p>“Was it though?” he shrugged. “I’ve only been trying to ask you out for about two weeks.” </p><p>“Ah,” I chuckled, unsure of what to say in my current position. </p><p>“Well,” he concluded to my relief. “Break a leg out there, Hellcat. Ronda doesn’t know what she’s up against.”</p><p>I gave him a quick goodbye, shutting the door and tossing the flowers as far away from myself as I could while Jon strolled in looking wildly entertained. “You’re racking up quite the fanclub.”</p><p>“Is that what it’s like?” </p><p>He checked the time on his phone and headed for the door. “We have to go.” </p><p>I chucked my kneepad in his direction just as he shielded himself with it and peered back in to mock me for my poor aim before disappearing for the afternoon. When I ran through my checklist-- knee pads, sports bra, spandex, toiletries--I found something out of place at the bottom of my backpack. A letter envelope lay neatly, addressed to no one. Curious, I opened it up to find a dog tag connected to a house key. Behind that was a plane ticket to Flagstaff, AZ with a notecard taped to it:</p><p>I’ll explain later --Jon.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Ronda had never  been the best at cutting promos. Sure, she was angry that she had to prove herself week after week as if she wasn’t beating the women’s locker room fair and square, but her actions on the microphone never said so. Thomas walked up behind me with a look of great anticipation. </p><p>“This is it, Superstar. Remember what we’ve gone over.”</p><p>“And if there’s even anyone left in that locker room, I want them to come out right now, because I’m ready to fight for my title again!” </p><p>“Ready,” said the stagehand, waiting for my music to begin. </p><p>He became Baron in an instant, looking smug as he peeled back the curtain and received his rightful boos. I waited for my cue, gripping my bat with white knuckles as we completed our entrance routine. Baron escorted me up the ring, refusing to let me shake any hands as was part of our gimmick.</p><p>Ronda was glaring at me over her eyebrows like she couldn’t breathe properly. It was hard to take her seriously, contradictory to everything I’d been told. She wasn’t scary at all, standing only a few inches taller than me, but our frames were relatively similar. Was squared up briefly, me tilting my aviators down my nose with a cocky gaze. Baron was bellowing something at me from below the apron, but it was hard to pay attention with her hopping around the ring waiting anxiously for the bell to start. </p><p>I went to my corner of the ring, handing him my sunglasses while he tried to give me last minute advice. “Keep your arms in, Jade.” </p><p>As the bell rang, I received a slap to the back of the neck. The Universe cringed for me while I shook off the sudden attack and turned to face her. She was feeling fiery, I could tell, immediately coming at me again. I ducked underneath her arms, thrusting my leg out so that I’d propel her into the turnbuckle. </p><p>She was already angry about not having the upper hand and it drove her to begin her famous punch combos on me. There were a couple that struck me harder than expected, but in my ear, she whispered. “Pull,” </p><p>She yanked my arm forward, carrying me to the opposite rope where I managed to escape through the middle rope. My first instinct was to drop to the floor to give myself a second, but Ronda had already thrown herself into me from the other side. I took the hit and flew backwards into the barricade where I let out a noisy breath and struggled to inhale for a second. Baron ran over to me, blocking the camera’s view so that he could have a second to talk to me. </p><p>“Whip her around a bit. Tire her out. C’mon, you’ve got this!” </p><p>He picked me up with great ease and shoved me towards the ring again where Ronda paced like a hungry tiger. She let me get both feet in the ring before she charged me. I planted my shoe right in her gut and waited to see how she reacted. </p><p>We tussled for a while in an intense battle of strength. She dropped me a few times, I managed to splash her, and she wound up breaking my less-than-perfect Muta Lock. I could tell she was building up to the arm bar and it made me sick to think about. After one more righteous slam, I was dazed. Thomas was off to the side slapping the mat like a barbarian, but I couldn’t pay attention to him--only the pressure she’d already applied to my elbow. </p><p>My heart was racing, allowing me to think faster than I was ready to. Thomas was right, though. Wrestling him had proven to be beneficial. The second she switched her grip, I snatched her wrist and sank my previously captured shoulder. She was unprepared for the motion, tilting backwards anyway so that I had a clear path to get my feet underneath me. The arena became unbearably deafening, but I could barely hear anyway what with the blood rushing to my head. Ronda was kicking furiously, but I had her shoulders all but cemented to the floor. Those three seconds felt like decades, but when the barely audible bell chimed, I sat back with an open mouth, watching Ronda turn over onto her stomach, defeated at last. </p><p>I could feel Thomas’ hands under my arms hoisting me to my feet while the referee tried his best to fit the heavy leather belt in my frozen fingers. Both of my aching arms were hoisted in the air by the men on either side of me. Thomas wound up putting me on his shoulders where I was finally able to celebrate, running my hand across the smooth metal plate. The chants of “Bye bye, Rousey” were bittersweet as I watched her exit quietly, but being the heel, I had to work my angle. </p><p>Thomas let me down, allowing me to strut around the entire ring with the belt above my head. He showcased me well, bowing every here and there before surprising me and, frankly, the rest of the world. Before I could pass him, he took me in by the waist and leaned down the full distance between us, locking our lips without warning. To avoid breaking kayfabe once again, I wrapped my arms around his neck and sold it. </p><p>We were met with as many mixed emotions as what flowed through me in that moment. He broke away, a hint of the plum colored lipstick I’d been wearing playing across his top lip. When the lights finally went out and it was our time to exit, I found it hard to wait for the curtain to close before I had my episode.</p><p>“Thomas, are you insane?”</p><p>“Did you hear that reaction?” he shot back, dragging me away from all the stunned stares. “Stella, we’re about to be unstoppable!” </p><p>“Does a storyline mean nothing to you?” </p><p>“This is going to be huge! The baddest couple in the WWE conquering anyone who steps up.” </p><p>“We’re not a couple,” I assured him, gesturing between the two of us. “We have to run with this now! How come you wouldn’t at least warn me?” </p><p>He shrugged, handing me the bat he’d been holding for me this entire time. “It just kind of came to me in the moment.” </p><p>Stephanie was marching up to us with a gaze that could drop the faint of heart dead. She immediately jammed a manicured finger in Thomas’ face before barreling down on me just as hard. “I should end your careers right here, right now. I don’t know what your obsession is with throwing out the script, but you’re lucky you got the reaction that you both did.” </p><p>“In all fairness,” Thomas interjected before I had my chance to. “Stella had no idea either. This was all me.” </p><p>“Office, now.” Stephanie uttered gravely, following after a defeated looking Thomas. </p><p>I was immediately approached by a gaggle of gossip queens all led by Alexa, whose bright eyes were wider than I’d ever seen before. “I called it! Didn’t I call it? Stella, tell them I called it.” </p><p>“You called nothing,” I snapped, eager to escape everyone. </p><p>On my way down the hall, I ran into Renee who still assumed we were friends. She was grinning from ear to ear, ready to give me a hug that I dodged with great effort.</p><p>“Congratulations, Stella, that’s so exciting!” She chirped settling for a quick pat on the back. “Tom’s been in need of a good girl since his wife left him.”</p><p>“Yeah,” I replied weakly, ready to vomit on her expensive looking snake boots. “Excuse me, please.” </p><p>My head was reeling, unsure of my fate after what was supposed to be the best night of my life. No one saw the belt draped across my shoulder, only the smudged lipstick and flushed face that had been brought on more by rage than anything. I hadn’t seen Ronda since she’d shown herself out of the arena and I’m sure it was better that way. It left me alone to celebrate my victory in my dressing room where I could wrap it around my waist and show myself what hard work really was about. </p><p>The moment was short lived when Jonathan called me from somewhere in the same building. He was laughing even when I accepted the call. </p><p>“Give me your best joke,” I answered, closing my eyes against the angry fluorescents as I leaned my head against the wall. </p><p>“No jokes,” he finished with a soft chuckle. “Just a sincere congratulations. You killed it out there--minus that one lock.” </p><p>“I knew you saw that.” </p><p>“You deserve that belt nonetheless.” he told me, taking a brief pause. “So, do you have any questions for me?” </p><p>“Not in particular, no.” I lied, unwilling to talk about what that envelope could possibly signify although I had my suspicions. </p><p>“Then I’ll call you tomorrow. Rest up, Champ.” </p><p>As soon as he hung up, I was summoned at the door. I uttered a quick groan, throwing it open to face Fergal, still in costume. He immediately wrapped me in a tender hug, careful not to squeeze me for fear of injury.</p><p>“That was wicked, Stella! How does it feel?” </p><p>“Heavy,” I joked, adjusting the belt that was still proudly draped over my shoulder. </p><p>“It looks damn good on you,”</p><p>I laughed, knowing where this was leading. In an effort to cut down on my time standing upright, I began batting my eyelashes. “I’ll take that drink you owe me.” </p><p>“Oh yeah?” he raised his eyebrows, his stance changing ever so slightly. “I’m free Wednesday night--oddly.” </p><p>“When does this club you speak of start to take off?” I asked, tossing my newly retouched hair over my shoulder. </p><p>“I’d say about eleven or so,” </p><p>“I’ll meet you then and there.”  </p><p>It was obvious that he was shocked, but the adrenaline rush had yet to subside and the way he looked at me was putting me on top of the world. We stood in the doorway waiting for one to dismiss the other the way a high school couple might have, but he had a sudden realization. </p><p>“Your new boyfriend won’t get angry?” </p><p>“To be clear, none of that was my idea.” I rolled my eyes. “He’s actually getting chewed out as we speak.” </p><p>On cue, Thomas came sprinting down the hallway, skidding to a stop in front of my door and pushing Fergal out of the way. He barged in and slammed the door behind him with a brand new glow about him. Keeping a safe distance from me, he held his arms up as if in defense. </p><p>“First of all, I’m sorry. I should have let you in on it. You’re right. Second--this was definitely the best thing we could have done.” </p><p>“We?” I shrieked. “I was about to get my solo career back, you idiot!” </p><p>“No you weren’t.” he snorted. “You and I have been a serious spectacle. There’s no way they’d give that up just so you could have your way. So as I was saying--we’re about to be as big as Harley Quinn and Joker, Bonnie and Clyde! We need a new entrance for Summerslam. We need to work on our chemistry.” </p><p>“We’re not together--understood?” </p><p>He looked me up and down with a sneer. “Don’t flatter yourself, honey. I’m a professional.” </p><p>“Can we talk later? I’m exhausted.” </p><p>With an aggravated sigh, he opened the door and began making his exit. “I’m coming over tomorrow. We have a lot of work to do.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took us two days to stop arguing. We had four days left to create a new entrance that embodied our freshly sparked romance and with the approval of Sylar, we were only a quarter of the way done. Thomas had finally convinced me to get rid of the bat, but I was only willing to do so if he let me have most of the creative control. As hesitant as he was to make that deal, he sat there mostly silent and let me put together a masterpiece in which he was the doting lover and I was queen of the universe. </p><p>“You lay down your jacket,” I instructed for what felt like the thirtieth time that hour, watching him mime the action with a sour expression. “I step out, you bow, and offer me your hand.”</p><p>“Why does this gimmick feel like it’s leaning toward one-sided obsession?” he huffed and gripped my hand a little too hard. </p><p>I glanced at our reflection in the mirror wall, the dramatic height difference looking more and more comical the longer I stared. Even in the lifted boots I was wearing, I was only as tall as his chest. He returned to the start of our makeshift ramp and adjusted his basketball shorts. </p><p>“Because that’s exactly what it is!” I snapped, turning the music off and advancing on him. “Before you pulled your stunt, we were going to either lose and hit the locker room or win and…”</p><p>It was then that I realized that there’d been no other plan. Without him having made any serious moves, we’d probably be in a direction that felt even more forced than where we were headed now. I lowered my eyes, feeling my face begin to glow red hot.</p><p>“You’re absolutely welcome,” he uttered sarcastically, placing his hands on his hips and turning away from me for a moment. “I might not be the best at making matches, but I can definitely get reactions. That’s what you need right now, newbie. The Universe needs to feel something for you. Being cute and strong isn’t going to cut it up here”</p><p>I remained speechless as everything began piecing together in my head for the first time since I’d set foot into the red brand. He gave me some time to let it all sink in and then changed the subject eagerly. “So you teach here?”</p><p>“Whenever I have time. Each partner has their own room that reflects them,” I responded weakly, shifting my focus to my second greatest accomplishment. “This one’s me.” </p><p>“I can tell,” he laughed, gesturing to the small abstract sculpture of a dancing couple in the far corner. “You’ve always been into weird art from what I can remember.” </p><p>“Easy for you to say, Mr. Murderabilia,” I shot back. “You used to be so proud of that weird death drill you got as a gift.” </p><p>“Half the paintings in your house give me headaches.” </p><p>“Thomas, focus,” I snapped in his face. “So you lay down your jacket--” </p><p>“Yeah, yeah, spin, spin,” he cut me off, going through the motions double speed with me. “This feels stiff. Let’s make a new plan.” </p><p>“Thomas, this is the first time we’ve been able to discuss this without scrapping everything. We cannot start from square-one again.”</p><p>“No, dummy,” he rolled his eyes and checked the time on his watch. “To sell Jade and Baron’s relationship, we need one of our own.” </p><p>“It’s kind of hard to form a relationship around a forced storyline,” I groaned. “How do you keep getting everyone on your side?” </p><p>“Don’t worry about it. Go home and get dressed. I’m taking you on a date.” </p><p>“No thank you,” I snorted. </p><p>“Would you feel better calling it a business outing?” he mocked, poking at any inch of me he could. “If you promise not to show up in jeans and flip flops, this whole night’s on me.” </p><p>He continued to prod at my arms, my stomach, and my face until I finally swatted him away shouting, “Fine!”</p><p>“I’ll pick you up at eight,” he winked, catching me off guard when it gave me tiny butterflies. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>It’d been a long time since I’d had an excuse to wear my favorite pale blue dress. The middle fit a little looser than I remembered, but I still felt like Cinderella and Marilyn Monroe wrapped in cheap fabric. I don’t know what possessed me to get dolled up past the natural glow I’d been sporting all day, but looking at myself in the mirror, I realized how badly I needed this night. </p><p>Thomas was right on time, standing on the other side of the door with a single rose airbrushed a slightly darker red to create a gothic look to the petals. He was just as cleaned up as I was in a white button down with the sleeves rolled past his elbows. There was something charming about his sheepish grin as he passed me the flower. </p><p>“Aren’t you going to tell me I look nice?” he joked.</p><p>“Aren’t you going to tell me what we’re doing?” </p><p>“You’re along for a good ride,” he stated simply. “First stop--dinner.” </p><p>He drove us into the heart of Orlando where there was always something going on. We bonded over music for a short time, rocking out to the Deftones CD he’d had playing during his drive from Tampa. Next thing I knew, he was opening the doors to a steakhouse I’d only ever passed by. </p><p>The our wine was poured, he raised his glass towards me. “To you, Stella Giordano, for being a warrior.” </p><p>“And to you, Thomas Pestock, for keeping me afloat.” </p><p>Our glasses collided, creating a crystalline sound that was pleasing to my ear. I sipped the dry red slowly, not keen on the flavor but also not one to pass up free drinks. We spent the first part of the evening reminiscing like a couple of old high school friends. By the time our salads were half eaten and shoved to the side, the warm tingle had set in and I was giggling after just about everything that was said. He was entirely more composed than I was, enjoying how much he was making me laugh when our dinner was set in front of us. </p><p>“No more wrestling talk,” I pleaded. “So what happened to you after you moved up? You still with that girl?” </p><p>He cleared his throat, stalling to answer from what I could tell. “Rochelle? Yeah, that’s ending soon…” </p><p>“I’m sorry, I didn’t--” </p><p>“We’re just two completely different types of busy,” he added quickly, becoming somber. “But who needs love when you have wrestling, right?”</p><p>I pursed my lips, unable to answer him in what I felt was a proper way. “I had no idea…” </p><p>“It’s not worth talking about,” he assured me, putting down his silverware and putting on a smile so false I couldn’t see through it. “Finish your food. There’s more to this night that wining and dining.” </p><p>“Tom, we just got it,” i argued, pointing down to the salmon I’d had yet to cut into. ”I’m still starving.” </p><p>“Well let’s change the subject quick,” he insisted, digging into his ribeye with ferocity. “There’s a Salsa night about two blocks from here. I was hoping to learn a thing or two from you if you’re willing.” </p><p>As dance always did, the words sparked an excitement in me after my first bite of food. I dropped my fork noisily and wiped my face with my linen. “I’m in. Get the check.” </p><p>He laughed, taking a couple more bites of his steak before flagging down a staff member. We left arm in arm with me tripping over my heels after a bottle and a half of wine and some celebratory tequila shots. </p><p>The next adventure was my favorite by far. We entered the venue to upbeat Latin music that surged through me and gave me my second wind. Before Tom could order us another round of drinks, I gripped his hand to the best of my ability and led him drunkenly through the crowd on the dancefloor who thought they knew what they were doing. </p><p>“You’re going to have to walk me through it,” he laughed sheepishly, looking down at our feet. </p><p>“It’s easy,” i giggled, twisting my hips back and forth while taking a couple of steps backwards. “Move your hips and let your feet follow suit. Forward two, back two.” </p><p>We moved like that until I was sure he was in rhythm. I made a half speed turn and was shocked when he yanked me back into him, catching me by the waist and spinning me back into position. </p><p>“You don’t need me,” I sighed, continuing our improvised dance.</p><p>“Ah, fair lady, but I do.” </p><p>He spun me out and all the way back in where we executed a less than perfect dip that almost sent me crashing to the floor. It was an unexpected good time that was cut short by the ringing of my cell phone in his back pocket. Red faced and itching for a drink, he handed it to me and wove his way through the crowd, standing taller than everyone. </p><p>I frowned at Fergal’s name until I remembered what day it was. “Oh my gosh, Fergal, what’s going on?” </p><p>“I was just about to pull up and didn’t know if you wanted me to wait outside for you.” he offered sweetly. </p><p>Through gritted teeth, I tried to sound like I was maintaining composure. “No, don’t worry. I’ll be there soon. Order without me.” </p><p>“Sounds like you’re getting started without me,” he chuckled. </p><p>“I had a work meeting, if you will.” </p><p>Thomas brought me a simple looking margarita and waited for me to take a sip. I finished it as quickly as I could, looking guilty and feeling better than I knew I should. His bewildered gaze was comical to me only because I knew he didn’t expect someone my size to hold their own the way I’d been doing. </p><p>“I’m sorry,” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “I forgot what day it was and have a thing to do a few blocks over.” </p><p>“Let me walk you there,” he insisted. “I could use some fresh air anyway.” </p><p>Once we were away from the noise, our pace slowed dramatically. Thomas had stuffed his hands in his pockets and was looking up at the tall buildings that we were walking towards. </p><p>“You want to know something?” I slurred, taking a long crossover step that forced him to stop in his tracks and steady me. “Whoops--you’re really not that bad of a manager--partner, friend--whatever you want to call it.” </p><p>“You’re not so bad yourself,” he chuckled through a lopsided grin. “We make a great team.” </p><p>We walked in silence for a moment. The gentle breeze that took the edge off the nighttime humidity wafted his cologne in my direction from time to time--an enticing aroma that made me want to bury my nose in his chest. Before I knew it, I’d stopped us from moving forward and wrapped my arms around his waist where I could reach him. He was shocked, but settled in quickly, letting his massive arms engulf me for a moment. </p><p>“Thank you for this,” I said softly, taking that deep breath of warm spice and a slightly floral top note. “I had a great time.” </p><p>He said nothing for a moment, rubbing the top of my back before holding me at arm’s length so that he could nod at me with a gleam in his eye. “Next adventure’s on you.” </p><p>“Cute,” I joked, spotting my destination up ahead. “I’ll let you turn around. See you tomorrow, right?”</p><p>“Interview at the Center,” he assured me, giving a quick flick of his wrist.</p><p>I walked backwards a couple of steps and waved, feeling his eyes remain on me even as I disappeared into the relatively dark, busy bar. Fergal had somehow managed to save me a seat at the counter between himself and a woman who couldn’t be bothered to stop her vapid anecdote to give me room to take my seat. </p><p>“You look…” he started upon my arrival, settling on my rosy face with an amused expression. “Sloshed, mate.” </p><p>“I’m just not a big drinker,” i explained, immediately ordering another margarita. “You look… fuzzy.” </p><p>He laughed, unsure whether or not I was being playful. “So, Champ, are you ready for the whole locker room to come after you?” </p><p>“I’m surprised I even had this time off what with all of the interviews being scheduled and TV appearances and filming and gimmick rehearsals…”</p><p>I stopped, swaying slightly and gripping my glass with two hands. The way he looked at me just wasn’t sitting right. What would Jon think? What would Tom think of Jon? Why did I care what Tom thought? I couldn’t add the nicest man in the locker room to my confusing tangle of emotions--some of which I didn’t start feeling until about ten minutes prior. </p><p>The pain must have shown because he squared his shoulders to me and leaned his head against his closed fist. “What’s on your mind?” </p><p>Once again, my loose tongue caught wind of my feelings and knew I’d do nothing to stop myself. “Fergal, you don’t want to do this.” </p><p>“Do what, sorry?” he frowned. </p><p>“You don’t want to get involved with me,” I whined, sliding my half finished drink towards the other side of the counter. “I’ve got issues you don’t want. You’re good. I’m bad.” </p><p>“You’re drunk, Stella.” he assured me. “Look, let me take you home. You can tell me why you’re so bad in the car.” </p><p>By the time he had to help me strap in, my intake began to catch up with me. My eyes were heavy, but my mind was full and in the moment, he was the perfect person to talk to. </p><p>“Finn,” I breathed, feeling my stomach begin to turn. </p><p>“Fergal,” he reminded me. </p><p>“Ferg,” I gulped, my impaired brain unable to think of any phrases that weren’t the blunt truth. “I’m sleeping with a married man and may have feelings for someone in the middle of a divorce. You don’t want me around.”</p><p>I was able to focus long enough to see that he was smiling when he reached over to grab my hand closest to him. “I asked you out for a drink, Stell, not for a commitment. Besides, I’m not an idiot. I’ve never seen Jonathan seek out anyone more than you. As for Thomas, there’s always an aspect of reality behind any TV relationship. It’s to be expected. Now, do you feel better?” </p><p>“I feel sick,” </p><p>“Tequila and wine have been known to do that to a person,” he replied, following his GPS into my neighborhood and parking in front of my ‘98 Jaguar with an impressed whistle. “She’s a cutie. How long you been driving that?” </p><p>I was unable to answer, instead stewing in how little he seemed to mind the situation at hand. He tried helping me out of his car but instead opted to just carry me bridal style since I had made no moves to exit on my own. I came around enough to lace my fingers around his neck and notice that he was getting an extreme kick out of seeing me this way. He brought me into the living room where he laid me on the couch and stretched my legs across the length. </p><p>“It’s been my dream car,” I finally answered him. “There’s something alluring about them.”</p><p>He returned from the kitchen with a glass of water and a couple pieces of bread on a plate. “It definitely suits you.” </p><p>We sat in silence for a moment as I took a long sip of water until I set both the plate and the cup down and buried my face in my hands. “I’m sorry. This probably isn’t the night you envisioned.” </p><p>Fergal turned to face me, leaning forward on the arm of the chair so that I would look him directly in his eye. “I envisioned being in your presence. That’s as far as I got.” </p><p>His patience and continuous compassion was stirring up another wave of emotion fueled by slight intoxication. “How are you not put off by anything I told you?” </p><p>“Because I’m not in high school,” he snorted. “You’re a big girl, Stell, and I’m a big boy. Just take the free drink and let me see you again.”</p><p>My eyes rested momentarily on the envelope containing the key and plane ticket. Jon had yet to call me with an explanation, but I knew in my heart what it meant. Fergal was still watching me when I returned my attention to our talk. His energy was infectious and it was apparent that he loved every second of anything he was doing. I let myself reach out to pat his knee before I shut my eyes for the last time that night.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sunday arrived and I was having a hard time controlling my emotions. I’d been with the brand a little over a month and was already in a penultimate match. The whispers were getting louder and I could feel them picking at my brain the longer I remained in plain sight. They drove me to the shadows of my desolate dressing room most nights, only exiting for Tom or someone of authority. Tonight was different--tonight was my rebirth. </p><p>I was strutting around in my robe with an hour to kill before I even had to get in the makeup chair. Saraya had surprised me with her presence and given me a sense of comfort in a locker room where all eyes seemed to be on me at all times. It seemed like she’d actually chosen to forget our video chat until Natty strode in with her signature cat ears atop her head and her typical thirst for drama.</p><p>“I just can’t help but feel horrible for Renee,” she sighed. “Ray, have you heard?” </p><p>“Um, no, sorry?” Saraya frowned.</p><p>As if I wasn’t even there, Nat leaned across the table, speaking low enough for us to both hear, but not once acknowledging the fact that I was anxiously trying to keep myself from chewing my thumb nail clean off. “I told her that boy was no good from the get-go! He’s too flaky. There’s too much going on in that weird brain of his. I told her!”</p><p>“That doesn’t explain anything,” she replied irritably.</p><p>Natty took a deep breath and centered herself. “She finally got the nerve to look through all of the plane tickets her trash husband’s been purchasing recently--Orlando, Orlando, Orlando. Every single one of them. He’s told her Cincinnati, Los Angeles, and even freaking Ontario.” </p><p>“Nat, this isn’t the time or place to be airing Renee’s business.”</p><p>“Okay, but listen,” Nat pulled up a chair, finally making eye contact with me as well. “I have my theories that he’s sneaking around with someone from NXT—probably Vanessa Borne or Aliyah if we’re being honest.”</p><p>I have an uttered an accidental laugh, knowing neither of those two would ever take an interest in him. Ray swiftly kicked my ankle as she did her best to dismiss Chatty Natty. “Nat, again, there’s really no appropriate time or place to discuss another’s personal matters, but in the middle of SummerSlam is definitely the worst.”</p><p>“You’re right,” she replied with a sneer. “I just hope he gets what’s coming to him, that dog.”</p><p>We watched her twitch away in silence, finally gasping in unison when she turned the corner. Ray delivered a swift  punch to my collarbone. “Stella, you need to stop.” </p><p>“They have more problems than anyone knows of,” I repeated in hopes that she wouldn’t press further.</p><p>“I’m sure you being around isn’t helping them get fixed! Honestly, the nerve of you.”</p><p>“Don’t talk to me about nerve, Ray,” I shot back, rising to my feet only to be dwarfed by her in her favorite red pumps. “We’ve both got our dirty laundry.” </p><p>“Well at least I could own up to my mistakes without looking like a--” </p><p>“I’m almost up,” I cut her off, turning quickly on my heel and exiting the oddly deserted room with a small tear in my thankfully unmade-up eye. </p><p>As if enough wasn’t enough, Jonathan was trudging down the hallway looking angrier than I’d ever seen. I heard the hurried clicks of high heels close behind and ducked behind a stack of equipment cases with my phone to my ear in case I needed to explain myself. </p><p>“When are we going to talk, Jonathan?” she called out to him.</p><p>“Not here,” he hissed. “Renee, you’re the one who’s been dodging me. Don’t act like I’m blowing you off.” </p><p>His heavy footsteps were alone when he broke the plane of my hiding place. She called out to him something that made him stop on a dime. “At least tell me who. Don’t I deserve to know who you actually think is better than me?” </p><p>It was then that he saw me standing there. When he turned to look over his shoulder, our eyes connected and I felt weak enough to fall over then and there. His tired eyes shut for a second, but he shook his head slowly before turning to face her. “Trust me, ‘Nee, you don’t want to know.”</p><p>He walked in her direction again so that she wouldn’t see me standing there pale-faced and out of breath once again. It took me several minutes to get my legs underneath me for certain, but when I was finally able, I hightailed it to hair and makeup with a lot on my mind. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The wardrobe change was most definitely welcome. The costume team had picked out a black vest, doused in glitter like everything else I owned, and a lace brassiere combo. The pencil skirt that I definitely deemed too short was easy to rip and gave way to equally shimmery spandex that matched the color scheme we would have going any given day. My boots stretched over my knee with not-so-obvious knee pads in the mix. It was a grand ensemble for a grand team, but I was having a hard time getting into the zone. </p><p>Thomas was standing behind me with his hands on my shoulders, squeezing gently and rhythmically while he spoke. “You’ve got the whole world in your hands right now.”</p><p>“Thomas, stop,” I urged for what felt like the eighteenth time. “I’ve got this. Just stop talking.” </p><p>He turned me around, glaring at me like I was glowing green. “Are you alright? You’re snapping more than usual.” </p><p>“Yes. Just let me go.” </p><p>Our music started up and he fixed up his jacket. “Whatever it is, suck it up. Let’s make some magic.” </p><p>He laid his jacket out for me and took my hand when I stepped into the lights. It was still hard not to be nervous in front of masses of people all shouting mixed messages in my direction. Thomas and I made our way down the ramp while he spun me a couple of times and I played into my character with a couple of quirky skips. All the while, he seemed to be gripping my hand a little too tight. I walked up the stairs, quickly posing in the corner and blowing a kiss to him while he took his own momentary spotlight on the floor. I hopped into the ring and ripped off the skirt, feeling free again at last. The stage went dark while Alexa prepared for her entrance. I leaned on the ropes, silently breaking character while Thomas spoke nonsense beneath me. </p><p>It felt like hours before Alexa was finally in the ring, glaring at me like we hadn’t just done a dance from the good old days for the behind the scenes camera crew just minutes before. The referee put the belt up between the two of us and it was on. </p><p>Alexa immediately went for my gut, throwing me off balance so that she could start pounding on my barely blocked head. She stopped abruptly and allowed me to stand, taunting me with her weight on one hip and a smirk. I got to my knees, then my feet, but she picked me up in a fireman carry and dropped me to the ground. I counted three drops, but my body felt like it had received one or two more than I could remember. I slammed my fist onto the mat, hardly able to hear what Thomas was shouting at me as Baron. </p><p>She was strutting around the ring flipping her hair to and fro while I regrouped. I was able to catch her as she walked past me, pulling her into a cover which she kicked out of in an instant. I took my opportunity to drag her into the middle of the ring where she tried her best to kick me. I delivered a few good kicks to her hamstring and ran for the ropes to execute an elbow drop. She rolled out of the way at the last second and gathered herself into one corner of the ring, watching me with a ferocity that I knew I wasn’t matching. </p><p>I ducked her clothesline and Pele kicked her when she turned around. Thomas was banging his massive palms on the apron, adding fuel to the fire in the crowd. I crawled over to Alexa and threw my body over hers. She kicked out again, but this time she groaned in agony. </p><p>All the while, out of all the eyes on me in the arena and on television, I could feel Paige’s burning into me, Jon’s enjoying the view, and Fergal’s knowing I was in distress. Alexa was pulling me back to my feet, fighting the grapple I’d engaged and pushing me into the far corner where I began to climb the ropes. She pulled me down and proceeded to sunset flip me into a cover. The kickout was difficult, but I managed to turn right around and grab her by her hair. Throwing her from the ring, I prepared for a suicide dive only to be interrupted by Ronda’s music--a complete shock to me. </p><p>Tom was in as much disbelief as I was, standing on the edge of the ring calling out for me to run. I stood frozen in fear, watching the angry fighter charge toward Alexa, taking her out with a punch combo that I couldn’t be bothered to receive myself. She was too fast for me, meeting me as I was ducking under the second rope with solid body contact that sent me flying into the barricade head first. </p><p>Next thing I remember, my neck was stiff and I was seeing stars that didn’t go away no matter how many times I blinked. The referee had slipped his fingers into my hand, but I couldn’t find the strength or coordination to squeeze them. Most everything else was a blur from the trainers’ questions to me trying to walk myself up the ramp. The third time I stumbled, Thomas begged me to let him carry me. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The story goes: Ronda was sent to interfere after Vince and H realized I wasn’t in a good headspace. She knocked Alexa off her feet and body checked me from the apron while I tried to escape. I stumbled around trying to figure out where she was, nearly taking out an official with a wild right swing. When I finally came around, I was told, I couldn’t stop veering to the right. To keep fan hands off of me, Thomas had a hold of my right wrist and was using his free hand to knock eager young fans out of the way. I barely remember being swept off my feet and put in the dimly lit medical office. </p><p>H and Steph had been with me when I received my sentencing--six weeks off the mat, four from the gym. That left me barely any time to prepare for Evolution. While Stephanie prepared my medical leave, H stayed behind with me, taking on a grave demeanor as he pointed his thick finger in my face like a shameful father.</p><p>“You have to take this seriously,” he warned me. “None of that crap like you pulled with that wrist injury. This is different. If you’re not careful, everything you worked for will become some B-Roll memory.”</p><p>“You’re cocky and it needs to stop if you’re going to make it anywhere with this brand. Do you understand me? Take your time off and think about where you want to be when you get back. I’ve put too much time and energy into building you myself and you will not embarrass me.”</p><p>“You act like I did this to myself on purpose.” I argued slowly, headache getting more intense the longer he stood with his finger in my face. </p><p>“I’m not talking about your head anymore and you know it,” he uttered in a low tone. </p><p>Those words stuck with me while I lay trapped in Brooklyn for a few days to ensure flying home wasn’t hell on my head. Thomas had offered to take care of me “for the sake of the storyline”. We quickly became roommates in a 4-star executive suite with a disappointing view of the surrounding buildings. He’d made sure I didn’t need to leave the bed for anything more than a shower and I had to admit it was kind of nice. </p><p>“I’m going down the street to find you something to eat that’s not out of a plastic container,” he said on the third night after I’d given him a run for his money with my craving for social media. “I’ve hidden your phone and so help me if I figure out you went looking for it…”</p><p>“I feel better, Thomas,” I groaned. “I’m sure five minutes of screen time isn’t going to set me back.”</p><p>“This is what H was talking about,” he pointed out, grabbing his room key off the work desk. “You not taking this seriously, that is.” </p><p>With a newly killed mood, I laid back on the extra soft pillows I’d been ordered by my colossal, overbearing nurse and let him laugh at the finger I’d left extended to his as he exited. Even without the room lights on, I was still able to see clear as day what with the sleepless city surrounding me. I hobbled over to the window on stiff, underused legs and watched down below as drivers made their own rules and thousand different cuts of cloth wove together on the sidewalks, creating a city that never failed when it came to excitement. </p><p>Naturally, I began searching for my phone after only a few minutes. I should have known he’d just switched our phone cases. When I initially saw the teal checkers overturned underneath his suitcase, I laughed at how careless he’d been; but upon seeing the generic iPhone background and a text message from Tyler Breeze, I bit my lip and returned it to its exact position.</p><p>Thomas was gone for maybe another ten minutes when he struggled to open the door with his arms full of bags. He refused to let me help him and sat me on the couch with a blanket and bottle of Gatorade. I watched on silently while he whipped together a surprisingly incredible looking beef casserole, serving it on the finest paper plates. Together, we ate in the dimly lit room with no more to say than idle comments on the noodles or seasoning. </p><p>“I’ve never been to the top of the Empire State Building,” I told him, setting my plate down and getting up to go to the window again. </p><p>“Okay?” he laughed. “And you’re still not going. Sit down.” </p><p>“You’ve never wanted to see this entire city lit up at night?” </p><p>“Stella, we’re not going.” he repeated impatiently. “It’s 20 minutes away.” </p><p>“That’s not going to stop me,” I giggled, slipping on my shoes and heading for the door. </p><p>“You have strict orders to stay relaxed, Stella. This is a concussion, not a jammed thumb.” </p><p>“Funny, H said practically the same thing,” I shrugged. “How about I let you know if I’m getting a headache?” </p><p>He gave a long sigh and wound up following me into the hallway. “You’re in your pajamas.” </p><p>“Even better.” I called over my shoulder, keeping my pace gentle despite the excitement I felt being able to leave the confines of that room.</p><p>We hopped into a cab to avoid the loud subway and Thomas let me point out all of the things I’d been dying to see in my lifetime. The ride was magical, but that elevator ride one-hundred-two floors up sparked a childlike giddiness that I hadn’t felt in quite some time. It didn’t register that I was holding Thomas’ hand until I was finally able to catch my breath as I took in the view before me. </p><p>He’d been looking at me the entire time I took in the twinkling skyline. “How do you feel?” </p><p>“Dazzled,” I told him honestly. “I told my parents I’d be on Broadway someday and they laughed because they know I can’t sing worth a damn. They say wrestling is where I’ve always belonged.”</p><p>“I beg to differ,” He joked, dodging the hand that I blindly threw in his direction. </p><p>We were the only ones up there on that nippy Tuesday night. The altitude was beginning to get the best of my foggy head, but the beauty was too much to peel my eyes away from. I threaded my fingers through the chain links separating me from a lengthy fall and closed my eyes. </p><p>“Why did you stay behind to take care of me?”</p><p>He was mimicking my stance now, not once taking his eyes off of me. “I told you on day one, kid. When no one else has your back, you’ve got me.” </p><p>We looked like two idiots, him in his flannel and sweats and me in a box set you’d see under a Christmas tree. He was obviously waiting for me to give him some sort of indicator and it fed my ego after not having heard from Jonathan. I was bored and the monster in me wanted to stretch its legs.</p><p>“There must be something in this for you.” </p><p>He sighed. “It beats the papers and half empty house waiting for me.” </p><p>My heart sank as we turned to leave. “It’s really over?” </p><p>“Look, let’s never touch this subject again. Is that cool with you? There are things you can know and things I’d rather not bring into the brighter facets of my life.”</p><p>“I’m not the one who brought it up,” I argued, all heat of the moment quickly icing over. “Clearly you want to talk about it, so let’s hear it.”</p><p>“I don’t want to talk about it.” he shot back.</p><p>“Yes, you do.” </p><p>“No, I don’t.” he responded with a little more aggression. </p><p>“Then what do you want to talk about?” </p><p>I stepped closer to him, maintaining eye contact in hopes of breaking him one way or the other. He was frowning at me, ready to fight right back, but I interrupted him by guiding his bottom jaw down in my direction. As he uttered the first words of his rebuttal, I pressed my lips into his even though my neck was in pain. He gripped my wrists and pulled away.</p><p>“Stella, watch your neck.”</p><p>“Shut up,” I groaned, pulling him back and guiding his hands to my waist as we shared the weirdest, most romantic kiss I’d ever had.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I’d never actually taken notice of the artwork on Thomas’ chest until it was hovering over me, made bolder by the thin film of sweat on his skin. If anyone had told me I’d end up in bed with him before my intended target of my NXT days, Seth Rollins, I’d have laughed and moved onto the next conversation--but there I was being cradled by his one arm while the other rested above his head. My fingers traced the silver prism surrounding an anatomical heart while I rambled about things he more than likely didn’t care about. </p><p>“I make promises that I can’t keep.” he said when he was sure I was finished talking. </p><p>I sat up and hugged my knees to my chest, turning my head over my shoulder so that my tousled waves spilled down my spine. “You’ve done alright by me,” </p><p>“When I proposed,” he began, shutting his eyes as if to reflect vividly on the memory. “I told her I’d move her out west where we could start the All-American family. I said, ‘give me two years, Ro’. Two years was all I needed. Then, the obsession got me just like it gets everyone. I was gone all the time and she’s a nurse so God knows her schedule’s just as bad. We saw each other more when we were dating. It got to her--got to me too, but she went ahead and moved herself to Colorado and said I was more than welcome to join when I had some free time. Do you know how I responded?” </p><p>“Tom,”</p><p>“I didn’t respond, Stella. We got called to shoot a backstage promo. That told her everything she needed to know.” </p><p>Like every other listening ear, I looked away and murmured, “I’m sorry,”</p><p>“It’s cool,” he replied with exaggerated effort. “I’ve got a climbing spot on the Raw Roster with a smoking hot TV girlfriend and I’m surrounded by idiots suffering the same fate as me.”</p><p>“I’m sleeping with Dean Ambrose,” I spat, shutting my eyes and bracing for impact. </p><p>When I peeked through my squinted eyelid, Thomas’s jaw had dropped. “You’re a monster, Stella. What the--”</p><p>“Why is that the first reaction?” I cried, feeling pain in the center of my head. </p><p>“Do you know how many men would jump at the chance to have her? I’ll never forget how many guys in the locker room were pissed that Jonathan Good of all people was the one to actually put a ring on that.”</p><p>It occurred to me that I still knew nothing about their relationship which, to Jon, was for the best. He’d been so hellbent on keeping up some sort of illusion that I was blindly a part of. I’d be able to ask him everything I wanted to know when I touched down in Flagstaff the next afternoon. </p><p>“He’s the friend you’re staying with, isn’t he?” Thomas asked with a slight pout. “Oh God. This was fun and all--you and me, but it definitely can’t happen again. I feel sick.”</p><p>“Thanks,” I scoffed. “And fun fact--we go back further than him and Renee. It’s not that weird.” </p><p>“Doubtful--this is really weird.”</p><p>I silenced him, digging down to the days when Jade West was in ripped jeans and the same signature baseball shirt. The bat had yet to see it’s long run in making me a star and Triple H would personally train me in the practice ring from time to time.</p><p>“Do you remember where you were in 2013?” I started, crossing my legs and clutching a pillow like we were at a slumber party. He was leaning back against the headboard, taking in yet another story with his full attention. “I was attending my first pay-per-view as an NXT recruit.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Being H’s personal investment had its perks. I felt like a kid on Christmas when he pulled me into his office to tell me I’d be allowed backstage at Survivor Series for what he called ‘purely research purposes’. </p><p>“You represent me,” he said calmly with a tight hand on my shoulder. “Never forget that.” </p><p>Alexa and I had been attached at the hip all those years ago, having known what it was like for people to laugh when they heard your name. Back then, we were just “cute”. No one paid attention until we were the loudest ones in the locker room, rightfully assumed to be behind the worst backstage pranks and brief uproars that took place wherever we may be. </p><p>H was hesitant to grant her a pass, but since I’d learned how to appeal to his fatherly side, it was easy for me to get anything I wanted within reason. Together, my partner in crime and I stood off to the side watching Superstars from our childhoods getting themselves ready to create the magic we’d fallen in love with. </p><p>“Randy,” Alexa gasped, gripping my wrist down by our sides as the man I’d followed for nearly a decade strode past with his signature trunks and the WWE Championship belt slung over his massive shoulder. “That’s a huge belt.” </p><p>I craned my neck to watch him carry on down the hallway like we hadn’t just made ourselves obvious. The Usos were passing by in the opposite direction as in sync as you’d expect twins to be, both massaging their rib cages post-match. They were nodding to the same people, smiling the exact same way when they passed us.</p><p>“‘Sup?” I nodded in their direction, wondering if they might actually remember complimenting my bench press at the performance center. </p><p>Their giddiness faded to momentary confusion as they kept walking, but uttered a quick “yo” in unison. </p><p>Alexa snorted, beginning to take steps in the direction they’d come from. The Shield was preparing to exit the arena looking beaten down but victorious nonetheless. The Real Americans exited first, Jack Swagger looking every bit as big as he was on television. Hot on their heels, Roman, Seth, and Dean finally got to break character. </p><p>“Good news is my jaw finally popped,” Colby groaned, massaging both sides of his face.</p><p>“Killer match,” Alexa chirped, turning on her bubbly charm as she slid in front of the aching trio. “We’re both definitely really excited to see where The Shield goes.” </p><p>Colby recognized us in an instant, but Joe was the first to speak, “Oh, hey, it’s Triple H’s girl.”</p><p>“Stella’s fine, thanks.” I replied sourly. </p><p>“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said with the humble nature that had never left him. “You’re big talk around here. None of us have ever gotten as much one-on-one time with The Man himself let alone more than three seconds of off-screen eye contact. You must be special.”</p><p>“She’s a shit grappler,” said the rudest person I’d ever met, his gelled hair gleaming under all the lights backstage. “Don’t I remember you from my workshop a few weeks ago?” </p><p>“She’s technical,” Colby interjected like he was discussing football. “I’m sure if you taught her right, she could pick it up quick.” </p><p>Jon adjusted the sleeves of his black shirt, looking away from me slowly with a side smirk when I replied to him. “Well I thought I learned a lot.”</p><p>“Either way,” Joe laughed, pressing his palms together and bowing at me slightly. “It was a pleasure to meet you at last. I can’t wait to work together in the future. Now, if you’ll excuse me, my knee is on fire.” </p><p>We were interrupted by Renee, recently signed and learning the ropes of backstage interviews, and a camera man who’d been seeking them out since the match ended. Colby jumped at the opportunity to be interviewed first, hair coming out of its ponytail and the rose color having yet to leave his cheeks. Alexa grew bored and disappeared to find catering which left Jonathan and me alone.</p><p>“I wasn’t that bad, was I?” I asked, offensively. </p><p>He looked me up and down, chuckling. “I honestly can’t remember. You were just the easiest to get a rise out of.”</p><p>“Maybe if you hadn’t flirted with me the entire time, I might have learned something.” I shot back with an idiot’s grin.</p><p>“Bold of you to assume, rookie.” he scoffed, not once letting up on his haughty stance. </p><p>“Also pretty correct of me to assume, no?” I turned to begin my search for Alexa, continuing to watch him over my shoulder as he stood motionless taking in the sight before him. “You’ve got a little drool on your chin.” </p><p>He waited until I’d gotten a good distance away before calling after me. “What are you doing tonight?” </p><p>I paused, making a slow turn around to readdress him. “I’m catching an early flight back to Orlando. Duty calls.” </p><p>Imagine my surprise when he ambled into the Performance Center the next day while I struggled to lock in a rear naked choke on Bayley, hellbent on the ring name “Davina Rose” at the time. She struggled against me, managing to get the upper hand until Jon made his way to our apron shaking his head.</p><p>“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, rookie. Get your elbow under her chin and she’s screwed. You--ponytail--let her choke you out.” </p><p>“And you are?” Bayley sneered, unwilling to accept coaching from anyone with the arrogance of the Lunatic Fringe. </p><p>“Okay,” he shot back defensively. “Or how about you go find a new sparring partner, skippy? What’s your gimmick anyway?”</p><p>“Stella, do you know this guy?” </p><p>I pursed my lips, unsure of what came over me in the moment except for pure curiosity. “H probably sent him to toss me around the ring.” </p><p>“Damn straight,” he slid under the bottom rope, still addressing Bayley on her way out. “Lose the neon. You look like a hugger, not a fighter.” </p><p>She gestured rudely over her shoulder with her free hand as she took a gulp from her water bottle and joined another group practicing suicide dives. Jon was fixing the tape around his hands when I turned my charm on high. </p><p>“Don’t tell me you followed me all the way here from Boston.” </p><p>“Absolutely not,” he chuckled. “Don’t flatter yourself, princess. I’m here to make myself look good, but I can’t just sit back while someone disrespects the glorious art of grappling.”</p><p>He sat down on the mat, his head nearly level with my hip. “Can you reach my neck, or do I need to go lower?” </p><p>I wrapped my arm around his neck, making sure to take his advice and really dig my elbow into his chin. My other hand rested on the back of his head while I tried to constrict his airway. He removed my arms with ease, turning back to stare at me in disbelief.</p><p>“Are you joking with me right now?” He pulled me to him by my forearm, slamming my back into his chest where he proceeded to wrap his arm around my neck like a massive boa constrictor. I gave a surprised gasp when he pressed my head forward with his free palm and teased me with what little air could pass into my lungs.</p><p>“Do you feel how quickly you faded just now?” he whispered in my ear, jarring me slightly. “Now, you try again.” </p><p>“I’m half your size.”</p><p>“So is Rey Mysterio,” he pointed out. “Quit being so closed minded and make it work for you.” </p><p>We got the best of each other back and forth for another hour or so before I remembered we weren’t alone. So many Superstars and hopefuls were beginning to watch on as I was beginning to get heated by Jon’s playful maneuvers around every move I tried to execute. </p><p>“You’re going to have to do much better than that if you want to get ring time, rookie.” He was bouncing on the balls of his feet like he hadn’t broken a sweat.</p><p>At my wits end, I took to the farthest corner from him, building up power in my legs while I watched him settle his hands on his knees. His hair was beginning to fall in front of his clean shaven face--typical Lunatic look. The light gray “Property Of” shirt he’d cut to fit his arms was darker around the collar.</p><p>“Oh, are you gonna do me a big bad spear?” he mocked in his most childish voice. “Come and get me, small fry. I’ll give you a free pass.”</p><p>With all of my adrenaline behind me, I propelled myself forward at maximum speed in his direction, taking in how carefree he looked and letting that drive my shoulder right into his abdomen to knock him off his feet with a surprised “oof,”.</p><p>We hit the ground together and I rolled off to the side, never having been a fan of a spear given or received. We both lay in agony waiting for our lungs to reset before either of us made a move.When I raised my forearms, he was bringing himself to an upright position with a pained expression that one couldn’t possibly fake. </p><p>“Are you trying to put me in a wheelchair? Your form is horrible.” </p><p>“Nothing’s good enough for you!” I hollered, letting my forehead hit the mat. “I didn’t ask for you to coach me out of the blue.” </p><p>“Didn’t ask,” he sized me up with a judgmental expression. “Definitely needed.” </p><p>“Why are you so obsessed with me?” I shot at him partially curious, mostly fed up with an arrogant seasoned wrestler trying to break me down. </p><p>“When I set my sights on something,” he shrugged, peeling the tape from his wrists, signifying the end of our session. “I make damn sure I get it. Now, can I see you tonight or are you going to pretend like you fly out in the morning?” </p><p>There was no way to conceal the grin that plastered itself to my face as quickly as he’d finished his sentence. “What do you have in mind?” </p><p>He finally pushed his hair out of his face, putting my neat-freak mind at ease at last. “You look like a dinner and dancing kind of girl.”</p><p>“Bold of you to assume,” </p><p>He gave me a sideways smirk and shook his head. “Your ego is out of control.”</p><p>A thought crossed my mind while I took in his sweat-soaked appearance. “Bet you can’t catch me.” </p><p>“Come again?” he asked as I scrambled to my feet. </p><p>“You heard me, big guy.” I slid under the bottom rope and began backpedaling. “Come catch me and then we can talk.” </p><p>He wasted no time exiting the ring and doing his best to take his longest strides. I powered forward into the dusk and down the road of the industrial park. His footsteps were heavy behind me, but far enough away for me to be comfortable enough to backpedal again. He was quick for the brute that he was, but I was able to cut corners quicker. I stuck my tongue out at him and took a quick left through some brush, hearing him shout about things not being fair. </p><p>With a loud enough laugh for him to hear, I spilled onto the road farther ahead than I’d originally been. He was keeping a great pace behind me, but I had slowed to a fairly comfortable jog, the typical Florida heat forcing my shirt to cling to my chest. I could feel him gaining on me, his breaths heavy but in control. I could see the bend in the road coming up and as he clung to the inside of the road, he continued to close the distance between us.</p><p>“Catch,” I hollered over my shoulder, ripping the shirt off my body and flinging it behind me to where I knew he’d be running. </p><p>He groaned, but once he’d found his footing again, he did the same which seemed to free us both up enough to gain more speed. I led him through some residential neighborhoods and through one backyard where an inconvenienced Labrador kicked up a huge ruckus. Soon, I was looking to the left down a busy street in search of oncoming cars. I hurried to the median before the break in traffic ended, leaving Jon on the sidewalk to curse my name. I blew him a quick kiss and carried on across the road, hearing him put the pedal to the metal. </p><p>With a squeal, I picked up the pace down the stretch of sidewalk until I saw my intended path. I broke off into some grass with Lake Barton in sight. He was closer now and could have easily grabbed me, but I pushed forward onto the dock, yanking off my shoes and propelling myself off the edge and doing a couple of front flips before hitting the cool water at last. </p><p>When I resurfaced, he was pacing with a smile on his face. “You win. Is that what you want to hear?” </p><p>“I want to hear a splash,” I told him as I floated on my back farther away from the ladder. </p><p>“No chance,” </p><p>Without a second of hesitation, I ducked down into the water and did something I never thought I’d do. The gym shorts I’d been wearing were being waved over my head and tossed in his direction while he watched on with raised eyebrows. </p><p>“Slight chance,” he reiterated, removing his shoes and sinking his feet into the water. </p><p>“Just get in,” I urged.</p><p>“And walk back two miles in sopping wet clothes like you?” </p><p>“Worst first date ever,” I jeered, giving him two thumbs down. </p><p>“This was your idea.” he reminded me, kicking his feet while he watched me swim back towards him. </p><p>I wrapped both legs around one of his ankles and yanked as hard as I could. “You’re not here to train at all, are you?” </p><p>He shook his head, staring across the dark water to the opposite shoreline. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you after that botched butterfly sweep. Who botches a butterfly sweep?” </p><p>“I’m a dancer above all,” I whined, resting my head on the palm that I’d propped up beside him on the dock. “Just trying to live out a last-minute dream.”</p><p>We locked eyes for what felt like the first time since we’d met. My stomach was flipping as his pale irises swept over the entirety of my face. He slid himself into the water, wincing at the temperature  but adjusting quickly. I swam a ways away from him, watching as he struggled with something underwater and eventually set his own gym shorts on the dock to do what little drying they might. </p><p>He met me in my spot, treading water only inches from me while our teeth chattered and the sun finally disappeared behind the tall trees. “Still the worst date ever.” </p><p>“Night swimming with a girl you hardly know?” I put my hand to my chest. “I thought that’s how all the best adventures started.” </p><p>“So what’s your story then? Where did H even pluck you from?” </p><p>“The guy I was dating at the time started a small time promotion in South Florida and asked me to stand in the one day that man decided to travel outside the box. I hadn’t been properly trained, but I guess he saw enough potential in me to offer me a spot in developmental.” </p><p>“Don’t you dare take that for granted, rookie. You don’t know how many people would kill for that man to so much as breathe in their direction.” </p><p>“I’m aware of the opportunity.” I rolled my eyes, letting my tread slip and momentarily submerging. “I’ve got my plans.” </p><p>“And what might those plans entail for the next few hours?” he asked, following close behind me back to the ladder.</p><p>I’d never believed in falling in love fast, but whatever I was feeling while his arms snaked around my waist, tracing down the small of my back, was intense. My back hit the metal bars, jarring me slightly, but serving as the spark that ignited a moment I’d never forget. His stubbled chin connected with mine briefly as we figured each other out. He put one hand on the rungs just above me, ensuring that neither of us floated away. It could have been minutes that we stayed there, maybe hours, but nothing else mattered to me aside from the sensations brought on by his lips parting and reconnecting with mine. </p><p>I woke up when I felt his weight leave the bed the next morning. He was perched on the side rubbing his sleepy eyes with his elbows on his knees. The small apartment I’d been living in was quieter than usual and I thanked my lucky stars that my roommate had more than likely not come home at any point in the night. </p><p>“Why are you looking at me like that?” he laughed, turning his bare upper body to face me. </p><p>“I’m not,” I replied sheepishly, averting my gaze and sitting up. “What time is it?” </p><p>“Earlier than you think. I’ve got to catch a flight to Indianapolis for the show.” </p><p>Glancing at my phone’s clock, I groaned and laid back down. “You don’t need a ride, do you?” </p><p>“You bring me back to your place, have your way with me, and then toss me out on the street like a piece of trash?” he asked in mock disbelief. “I thought we really had something going here.” </p><p>With a laugh, I turned onto my side and propped myself up to talk. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” </p><p>He smiled and leaned back over his side of the bed so that we were talking face-to-face. “Look, I don’t know when we’ll be able to see each other again, but just know that we will.”</p><p>It took three months for our paths to cross again. Renee came into the picture shortly after she’d hit it big with backstage interviews. Years passed, my friends left me, and Triple H could never explain why I was continuously left behind.</p><p>“You’re a star, kid.” he’d tell me to distract me. “The people love you.” </p><p>I let him inflate my ego to the point of no return. The illusion of being the queen of NXT was good enough for me until I broke my wrist after I’d let my guard down around an underestimated component. After being sent to Vegas for rehab--I sometimes still laugh about the irony of the situation--my prince charming lifted the veil of arrogance that I’d been shrouded in since I’d first started feeling abandoned.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Something doesn’t add up,” Thomas responded after he’d absorbed every detail of the story I’d just given him. “You told me H saw you goofing off with some friends on the Full Sail campus and that’s how you got a tryout.”</p><p>My stomach flipped as I stammered over an excuse. “I call it goofing off because I-I wasn’t serious about--well, the ring was up and--” </p><p>“Uh-uh, Stella,” he cut me off. “You’re hiding something. Where did he find you?” </p><p>“We don’t need to talk about that,” I said nervously, clutching the covers to my bare chest. </p><p>He grabbed my elbow and turned me so that I was looking him directly in his eyes. “Who are you?” </p><p>I did the only thing I could think of in the moment and clutched at my forehead. “Please can we not talk about this?” </p><p>“Fine,” he huffed, retrieving his clothing from the floor and getting dressed in silence. I kept myself fixated on my one exposed knee with a fearful tear welling up in my eye. </p><p>“Tom,” I called to him before he could put a door between us. “It’s bad.”</p><p>“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.” he shouted louder than he’d intended. “Sorry--it’s just… the more I talk to you, the less I feel like I actually know you.” </p><p>I shrugged, unable to break my gaze for fear of caving in and conjuring up old demons that had been perfectly laid to rest. “It’s been dealt with and put so far behind me, but I can’t help but look in the mirror and remember that it’s why I’m even on this stupid roster.” </p><p>“You’re doing it again,” he said hysterically. “Stop giving me puzzles! If you want to talk, spill it. Otherwise, quit wasting my time and let me get to sleep.” </p><p>“Good night,” I excused him, turning onto my side so that he couldn’t see me squeeze my eyes shut.</p><p>There was stillness for what felt like hours before he softly walked back into the room and adjusted the covers over me. Without a word, he flipped my lightswitch and shut the door. I could hear him pulling the bed out of the sofa in the suite, willing myself to stay out of that part of my memory. </p><p>“Hello?” I heard him grumble, taking a pause before speaking a little louder. “Rochelle--Rochelle! Can I answer your first question before you start verbally assaulting me?”</p><p>I eavesdropped a little longer, letting his turmoil at home be the last thing I heard before I fell asleep. We spent the cab ride to the airport virtually silent, departing with our noses in our phones and a quick “see you later”. Soon, I was at the breakfast bar of a cabin-style house situated deep down a trail right off the highway watching Jon slide cedar plank salmon into the oven.</p><p>“So how long until you unpack all those boxes?” I asked, staring at the scattered, haphazardly stacked cardboard that surrounded us. “I give you six months.” </p><p>“Keep your hands out of my boxes. You’re not supposed to be doing anything.” he responded, brandishing the serrated knife that he was using to cut lemon wheels.</p><p>“Please,” I begged, sick of sitting around. “Let me get rid of some of them.”</p><p>“Stella,” he scolded, looking me dead in my eye with as much authority as he could muster up. “No.” </p><p>I pursed my lips and slid from my chair, beginning to peel the tape off of the nearest one. He sighed and abandoned his prep. Playfully, I put my hands over my mouth like I’d been caught and danced away when he tried to grab me. </p><p>“Sit down, you demon.” he urged, taking another grab at me. </p><p>I giggled and jumped away one more time, knocking a box off of its unstable pedestal. There was a ruckus as the contents settled on the ground. Jon’s jaw tightened and his eyes squeezed shut as he murmured, “Six days to go.” </p><p>“I’m so sorry,” I gasped, dropping to the ground to salvage what I could. </p><p>He picked me up by my upper arms without a word, setting me off to the side so that he could kneel and asses the damage. I watched on in embarrassment as he turned over the box and breathed a quick little laugh. </p><p>“Switchblade Conspiracy,” he said, handing me a slightly cracked glass frame with an older photo of two young men--one unmistakable with his shaggy red hair and a smattering of fake blood across his face and chest. </p><p>“No way,” I leaned back against the concrete wall. “Is that Sami Callihan?” </p><p>“Ah, I forgot about his stint in NXT.” </p><p>“He never mentioned this,” I brandished the photo and slid it back into the upright box. “Then again, he wasn’t too happy about anything when I knew him. How long ago was this?” </p><p>“2009. It’s crazy how we evolve, isn’t it?” He stepped forward and tried to pull my body against his, but I stopped him, seeing bright lights spill in through the dining room windows.</p><p>“Are you expecting someone?” I whispered unnecessarily. </p><p>Jon frowned and slid his fingers through the blinds, squinting against the yellow beam that shone directly in his eyes. “For fuck’s sake--it’s Renee.”</p><p>“I’ll be in the closet.” I responded automatically. Turning on my heels and speeding off. </p><p>Jon caught me by the hand and dragged me in the opposite direction. “No, she’s here for a box of records I accidentally took. I told her I’d send it, but--dammit, who cares?” </p><p>He shoved me into the powder room, pressing a finger to his lips as he slowly shut the door. I stood there in absolute darkness listening to Blue’s ecstatic yips which turned into whines when he realized he’d been left behind. </p><p>“--I’d send them to you!” Jonathan was shouting slowly on his way in minutes later after a more dainty pair of feet.   </p><p>“Yeah, well I figured you’d take your sweet time,” she mumbled as her noisy heels stopped directly on the other side of my hiding place. </p><p>Her hand was rested on the doorknob sending a shockwave of panic through me. “And I certainly wouldn’t disrespect them enough to leave them in a coat closet if I did. I’m not completely heartless.” </p><p>“Hmm,” she chirped sarcastically. “So where are they?” </p><p>“Not over there,” he grumbled.</p><p>Renee’s boots clicked off down the hallway followed closely by Blue’s scampering and snorting. They made their way to the opposite side of the house leaving me to sit on the cold tile with no sense of shame. As I was settling into my hiding place, my phone went crazy. Scrambling to silence it, I made the choice between a video call from H and a phone conversation I could always have with Tom--easy. </p><p>I peered into the hallway as quietly as I could and sped silently to the front door where I slipped onto the deck and sprinted for the garage, tiptoeing over jagged gravel while I pretended not to be in a hurry. “Well this is a pleasant surprise.”</p><p>He was in what looked to be a home office with Stephanie and one of their daughters in the background tinkering with something near the window. “You look like hell.” </p><p>I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, I’m trying out a new style. Now why are you making me look at my phone against the doctor’s orders?”</p><p>H clicked his tongue and peered over his shoulder. “Don’t act like you’ve been following the rules. Now listen--I have incredible news. This injury of yours has earned Ronda a two week suspension. We’ve also removed her as the number one contender and have something planned that’s going to put you on the map if you play your cards right.”</p><p>“That news is far from incredible,” I gasped as I ducked behind a wall of boxes. “Sounds like I’m going to be on Ronda’s radar for the rest of my career.” </p><p>“You really think she’s resigning next year?” he scoffed, eliciting a disappointed outburst from Steph. “What? She’s not…”</p><p>“So what’s this that you have in mind?” I asked tiredly, glancing out of the window facing the house.</p><p>Before he could tell me anything, I was startled into dropping my phone by a shrill but quiet, “Busted!” </p><p>Standing beside me with her hands on her hips and her hair in her natural ponytail was Alexa, tapping her foot and scowling in complete disbelief. “How’s Thomas?” </p><p>“Not my boyfriend,” I said through gritted teeth, ending the call with H who was trying to figure out what was going on. “I’ve told you just about every time I’ve seen you.” </p><p>“What are you doing here--in the desert--with Renee’s husband?” </p><p>“What are you doing here with Renee?” I shot back.</p><p>“Being a better friend than you!” </p><p>Her words sent my heart into my throat as I stammered over my next choice of words. “I-I’m not the r-r-reason they broke up.”</p><p>“Yeah, no shit. It’s been a long time coming,” she huffed, pulling a wisp of hair away from her eye. “But you, ma’am? You’re here on his second night in a new home as a single man.” </p><p>Renee’s crackling voice called out to Alexa who continued to glare at me as she called back. I pushed my hair out of my face and watched another FaceTime request appear on my screen.</p><p>“He was mine first,” I murmured heartlessly. </p><p>Looking taken aback, Alexa dusted off her hands and began her backwards trek to the driveway. “You have a problem. I hope that’s somewhat apparent to you.” </p><p>I kept my same stoic expression, while she put on a show about not finding the box they’d been looking for. Jon scolded her sarcastically about going through other people’s things, Renee cursed his name, and they were off. His heavy footsteps entered the garage quickly, stopping right beside me where he immediately began releasing his pent up aggression.</p><p>“For the love of God, Stella, do you realize how much shit we could have been in just now? What if that had been Nat? What if Nikki and Brie had decided to back her up? I barely trust her to keep her mouth shut! I don’t even want to know what you were thinking because whatever it was, I’m sure it was selfish.” </p><p>Again, my phone chimed. I brandished it with a smirk, assuming my typical argument pose with one hip cocked to the side. “I had a business call.” </p><p>Even in the dark blue light of the impending night, I could tell his face was red with rage. He snatched the device from my fingers and hurled it as far as he could. I watched in horror as the barely protected screen skipped over rocks. </p><p>He sighed regretfully. “I’ll fix that.” </p><p>On impulse, I tried to shove him. “I have to take that call, you idiot!” </p><p>Though the gravel was jagged, I ran to my phone’s resting place and dusted off the scraped up screen, answering H’s eighteenth call. I wiped the beginnings of some tears from my eye and walked into the flood light that sat atop the entrance to the detached garage. Jon leaned against the structure out of sight, but close enough to hear everything while I played pretend. </p><p>“Hey, I’m sorry. People think they can sneak up on me.” </p><p>“Where are you?” H squinted, trying to get a sense of my surroundings from the limited view I provided. </p><p>Stephanie was sitting beside him now looking equally concerned when she spoke up. “Is someone taking care of you?” </p><p>“I’m with my cousin in Arizona,” I lied, gulping down the lump that was forming in my throat. “There’s a really good head trauma specialist here.”</p><p>“Paul, do we even need to tell her now?” Steph asked in what she thought was a quiet voice. </p><p>“Yes, honey. She needs to start mentally preparing.” he argued. “Stella, we’re going to start a feud between you and Becky. Somewhere down the line--insert Charlotte--and next thing you know, no one can stop talking about the women’s division.”</p><p>Jonathan rolled his eyes and disappeared into the garage where he snapped on the light. His reaction set the tone for my response, leaving me alone to throw a hand over my open mouth.</p><p>“That sounds…” </p><p>“It’s coming, kid. Get ready.” he grinned in such a way that conveyed his actual message to me even with Stephanie beside him scrunching her nose like a proud mother. </p><p>As they signed off, I rested my aching head in my trembling hands. Jon, though still tense, stood in front of me so that I could rest against him. He slid one hand around my back and traced circles that were therapeutic for both of us. We stood like that, listening to the nocturnal wildlife while we wound down. Eventually, he locked his second arm around me and allowed me to get the same hold on him. </p><p>“You don’t have to take this from them.” he whispered into the top of my head as he put me at arm’s length. “If you want to be the Jade West I know you’re trying to be, come with me to the independent circuit.” </p><p>“Are you crazy?” I snapped. “I’ve barely made a name for myself in WWE. Do you know how quickly I’d be swept under the rug anywhere else?” </p><p>“Forget I said anything. You’re the most doubtful person I’ve ever met. They’d eat you alive.” he murmured, for once being the only calm one in a situation. “Dinner’s ready.”</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A troublesome win over Nikki Bella brought me face-to-face with The Man herself at Evolution. She’d just beaten Charlotte in their Last Woman Standing match and it appeared that not even that harrowing match hadn’t satisfied her. As it’d been discussed, she hobbled to the edge of the ramp with her belt tight around her waist. I sat in the middle of the ring, sore and exhausted beyond all comprehension gripping my own title as if she was going to rip it away from me. </p><p>“Well, well, well,” she sighed into the microphone. “Jade West--the Hellcat in the flesh once again.” </p><p>My heart was racing as she limped closer. It’d been years--and I certainly thought there’d be more--since I’d had any kind of exchange with the fiery redhead. She sucked her teeth, looking what little she could of me up and down. </p><p>“I was wondering when you’d finally be good enough to let me smack you around a little bit. We haven’t seen each other since I snapped your wrist, eh? Do you remember that? Or did Ronnie knock your memory loose? Seems to me you’re more of a Ragdoll than a Hellcat at this point, don’t you think?” </p><p>The cheers were humiliating. I could feel my cheeks glowing as she soaked up her praise. She held a confident stance along with my gaze, waiting for the crowd to die down before she spoke again. “So listen, Jade. I’m bored. I just defeated Charlotte Flair in a Last Woman Standing match and I feel like there’s not much else to look forward to. Now, I know you know that Survivor Series was supposed to be you and me and best believe I was aching for it--still am. All I’m saying is--watch your back.” </p><p>Her music blared and she exited in a blur. I was out of the ring in an instant, massaging the thigh that Nikki had done a number on.The lights went down and I was greeted in my dressing room by Becky with big hug that contradicted our entire performance. Her grip was gentle and we both limped around each other, trying to get our best foot on the ground to support each other. </p><p>“We’re about to have so much fun,” Becky chuckled. “I’m thinking we get real raw with it. Don’t hold back--I’m not gonna.” </p><p>“Clearly,” I snorted, massaging my right forearm. “You had to go there with the wrist?”</p><p>She shrugged, stepping away so that she could take a seat on the ground. “Word is we’ll be swapping rosters after Mania if you lose your title. Let’s make it worth it. I’m coming after your title and you’d best be ready to defend it.” </p><p>My stomach caved in on itself momentarily. “How come I’m just now hearing about this?” </p><p>“Because it’s all talk, Stella. If it’s the rumor floating around though, I’m saying let’s make it interesting. Bring your best energy for this promo. We’re going to the top.” </p><p>I followed her from the room and immediately trudged down the hallway to where I knew H would be directing the equipment managers and just about anyone else with a question. He wasn’t ready for me to drag him down to my level by his elbow with fury in my shaking voice.</p><p>“So that’s it? I’m losing my belt and going to Smackdown?” </p><p>“Who on Earth put that idea in your head?” he huffed, clearly inconvenienced by my ambush. </p><p>“Is it true or not?”</p><p>He pursed his lips, looking both ways like he tended to do when I argued with him in public. “Stella, I don’t have time for this. We’ll go to lunch and talk tomorrow.” </p><p>“Buying time to make up your story,” I huffed, on the verge of tears. “Typical.” </p><p>He let me storm off into the sea of moving equipment and diligent chatter without so much as a second glance. Typical, indeed. After I’d gathered my belongings and made a break for the exit, I began to notice various flower petals that had already trampled against the concrete. It seemed like everyone was holding some sort of flower except me. Andrade had been glued to Charlotte since she’d hopped out of her makeup chair--an odd couple, but somehow perfectly harmonic. </p><p>Zelina was wrapped around her darling fiance looking just as beat as I felt after having finally pulled off her fake lashes--hell, even Becky was walking just a little too close to Colby--and where were either of my supposed boyfriends? </p><p>“I know it’s you,” said a weak voice from my rear which made me wish I could have turned to stone in that moment. </p><p>I turned around, knowing I wasn’t going to like what I saw based on the crackle in her otherwise beautiful voice. Renee was glossy-eyed, sporting very little makeup and her most comfortable jeans at this point, as empty handed as I was in the middle of everyone’s path. </p><p>“What are you talking about?” I tried to play dumb, only to be cut off.</p><p>“Save it,” Renee snapped, somehow managing to keep the conversation between just the two of us. “I saw your earrings on his dresser. You know, the hoops I was dying to borrow?”</p><p>“Renee, I can’t even begin to explain,” </p><p>“You don’t have to. Believe it or not I actually saw it coming. I knew about you two and I was stupid enough to think it was actually over once we got together. I gave you the benefit of the doubt and didn’t let him be our common thread.” </p><p>I couldn’t say anything to her--partly because frozen in fear, but mostly because I was feeling more sick than I’d ever felt in my life. The wave of nausea nearly drowned out her parting words to me.</p><p>She looked me up and down as she walked off ahead of me. “Enjoy your life together. Apparently it was supposed to be yours in the first place so fuck me, right?” </p><p>The tears that dripped slowly from my lashes were hot and rage-driven. I probably looked like a silent, imploding mess but no one bothered to check on me. In a way, I was thankful, but collapsing into someone’s arms would have been a burden off of my knocking knees. Once I’d recovered at least halfway, I dragged my feet the rest of the way to the exit, careful not to make eye contact through my raised hood. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The address that H sent me was an empty cocktail lounge in the middle of Denver that was as dark and smoky as the tiny glass in front of him. I found him at the far end of the counter zoned in on something directly in front of him while he took a long whiff of his shot of whiskey. My sneakers scuffed the linoleum floor loudly so that he’d be aware of my entrance although he didn’t need any warning. </p><p>He slid the dark liquid down his throat, waiting for the burn to subside with his arm outstretched for me. “Come here, Stella. We’ve still got eight hours until the show.”</p><p>I accepted the smoky-smelling drink with a slight grimace, not one to want to decline a drink from him in any situation. Our tiny glasses collided as he waited for me to make a toast I wasn’t prepared for. </p><p>“To…”<br/>“To this shit storm that is show business.” he chuckled with a hint of seriousness as he knocked back yet another. “So talk to me, sweetheart. What’s going on with you?” </p><p>“Am I losing my belt just so that I can go to Smackdown?” I asked once I’d gotten over the stinging in my chest. </p><p>“It’s almost November. You have a long way to go before the next shake-up. Now why would it matter to you so much if you did go to Smackdown?” </p><p>“Am I not doing well enough on Raw’s main roster?” </p><p>“Do you want an honest answer?” he hiccuped, wiping moisture from the top of his bushy beard. “Because the honest answer is no.” </p><p>“And a more in-depth answer is that I haven’t been given nearly enough opportunity to prove myself.” </p><p>“You’re Raw Women’s Champion!” H responded a little more aggressively than he’d meant to. “You just got the belt and you just got back from being injured. You want your entire career to happen all within the hour. Slow the hell down.” </p><p>I finally took a seat, letting his words sink in. He ordered us two cocktails and some finger foods, knowing how to appeal to me with an order of steak tartare. He gave me my time to think, answering some emails and text messages in the time that I pretended to be fascinated with the menu in front of me. </p><p>“I also told you not to let this mess with Jonathan get out of hand.” he said once I seemed a little more comfortable. “You really didn’t think I’d find out about their split and you really didn’t think I’d put two and two together?”</p><p>“Please, not you. Renee and I already had a run-in.” </p><p>“As you should have. Now--that being said, I went to bed thinking this conversation was going to be entirely different than it’s going to be.” he took a quick sip of his brand new cocktail. “There are less than 6 months to Wrestlemania. Yes, you just got back, but something needs to be done. Dean Ambrose’s contract expires after ‘Mania and with all this going on, yes, Stella--the plan was to move you to Smackdown. Renee just got the opportunity of a lifetime and I’m not about to uproot her, but you two need to be separated. Since I can’t do anything about that until April, I’m suspending you an additional two months to give her time to heal. I’d much rather be dealing with the two of them than the two of you--although Renee is so much more of a professional than you and it’s you I don’t trust.” </p><p>“That’s bullshit!” I shouted by accident, lowering my head and doing my best to keep our privacy. “Paul, I’m Women’s Champion. What are you going to do with the belt?” </p><p>“You’ll be handing it right back over to Ronda tonight.” he continued with the same expression while he continued to avoid my intense eye contact. We have you set up to be making an announcement. Take your time off, build yourself up for a comeback. You don’t deserve one, but insights say it’s what the viewers want.” </p><p>“Thanks for the drink,” I said quickly, sliding it in his direction having not touched it. “Oh, and you don’t want me on Smackdown. The Miz was my other married man.” </p><p>As he was good at doing, H let me leave without saying another word to me. I felt nothing as my feet hit the sidewalk--no sadness, no anger, no embarrassment. It was hard to feel anything through the emptiness that had settled within me. I felt no shame or sorrow for the wrong that I’d done. In my head, I was right. Nothing mattered but me. That’s when I realized that Stella was gone. I unfolded the reflective sunglasses that sat on top of everything inside of my tiny purse. I was vulgar, ruthless, completely irresistible--the Half-Pint Hellcat. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I took extra notice of the microphone I clutched to my chest. It’d be the last time I spoke to the Universe as a whole for a while. As much as cutting promos wasn’t my thing, I’d miss it most of all--as if I hadn’t just spent two months off the mat. What was two more right? Thomas tapped me on the back, urging me to start walking as our music began. Since we were opening the show, I felt no need to be over-the-top with my strut down the ramp. He stayed close behind me, jeering back at those who called out to us on our trek. </p><p>My cue seemed to come quickly and I nearly forgot what I needed to say, but I looked down at the belt on my shoulder, that leather trophy I’d barely held and took a deep breath anyway. “If last night didn’t prove that I’m the best, then I don’t know what will.” </p><p>There was a mixture of reactions that hadn’t changed since my debut as champion. Thomas shrugged, doing his best to hype me up without a microphone. We let the crowd die down before we locked eyes and I froze, understanding exactly what he was saying with the look he gave me. </p><p>“You see, this past weekend has been a whirlwind to say the least. After the dust from this historic event settled, I took a step back and noticed some things about myself.” I took a step back, putting myself directly beside Thomas who immediately took the hand I extended in his direction. “My name is Jade West and I let jealousy and spite drive me to ridiculous lengths in the ring--and also out of the ring. It’s been eating at me. I’d be lying if I said it’s been eating at me longer than after the end of Evolution, but nonetheless. With the support of this incredibly misunderstood man, I’ve been able to get through this thick crowd of demons in my head. So it’s with a heavy heart that I announce to you that I am relinquishing the Raw Women’s Title.”</p><p>A stunned silence preceded a heavy, courteous applause that did nothing to start any kind of fire in my heart. Tom squeezed my hand hard enough to remind me that he was there. I finally felt the need to end my air time, knowing a long wait that airport was next on my list the second the lights went down. </p><p>“Ronda, get out here and take this damn belt as a peace offering--please.” I did my best to smile as I wrapped one arm around Thomas’ waist to wait for Ronda’s music. </p><p>It didn’t take long for her to stomp down the ramp and to put herself directly in my face. She ignored the handshake I was looking for, keeping her eyes glued to mine with a look like she’d smelled something rancid. Eventually, she gripped my hand with brute strength and let me hang the belt on her shoulder. I led the Universe in applause, letting Tom scoop me into a one-armed hug where he whispered in my ear. </p><p>“Proud of you,” </p><p>“Don’t be,” I said back, acting like I was wiping at my lipstick. </p><p>When we exited, H was waiting for me with a heavy brow and a fresh business suit on. He clapped my shoulder and kept his head as low as he could while he spoke to me on our way out. “I’m never going to give up on you. That’s why I’m doing this. You need to learn--”</p><p>“I’m not a teenager, H.” I groaned, swiping his arm off of me. </p><p>“We met because you tried to pickpocket me.” he reminded me. “Frankly, I don’t think you’ve done much growing up past staying within the law.” </p><p>“As far as you know,” I murmured jokingly, knowing it’d grind his gears. </p><p>“You’re to go to straight to the airport.” </p><p>“You’re like the father that didn’t want me,” </p><p>“Stop that,” he scolded me, turning me to face him on the spot. “You know I’ve never taken pity on you. Your parents are wonderful people. It’s you who’s the issue! When we found each other, you were a liar, a thief, and you were a pretty damn good one to catch me in a moment of weakness like you did. If you start to realize that before your two months are up, maybe--maybe I’ll consider reinstating you sooner.”</p><p>He went as far as to put me in the car himself, seeing me off until I turned the corner. It bothered me how much he’d grown on me in the six years that I’d known him. We’d been through some wicked moments, and he’d put me through even more himself.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Once upon a time, I cared entirely too much what my friends thought. We met up at our favorite seaside bar as we always did when margaritas were five dollars, scantily clothed and looking for someone to pick up our tabs. My third drink was beginning to taste like water when the unmistakable large bearded man sauntered up to the crowded bar looking like he had nowhere to be for a while, I turned to the gaggle of girls in front of me feeling a rush of adrenaline on top of my buzz. </p><p>“Is that who I think it is?” I asked, jerking my head in his direction although I was certain no one knew who I was talking about. </p><p>The blank stares built up in front of me as I sighed in disbelief. “Guys, Triple H is probably the most legendary wrestler to ever set foot in a ring. He’s set the bar so high and has inspired so many people and movements that you probably don’t even know he’s impacted your lives in some small way. Do any of you listen when I speak?” </p><p>It hurt my heart to continue sitting in silence as my three cohorts continued to blink creases into their cheap eye makeup. “Oh my God, he’s got a lot of money.” </p><p>The only blonde clicked her tongue, raising one thin eyebrow in excitement. “You should go talk to him.” </p><p>The other two agreed, bringing their straws to their electric colored lips waiting for my answer, which I delivered after I abandoned my glass. “Don’t wait for me.” </p><p>No one said any parting words when I strode away, adding an extra twitch in my step while I let the alcohol take over me. I managed to stumble right into him as he brought his fresh glass to his lips, causing him to splash a little on his abdomen. My tingling hands landed on the thin fabric of his skin tight shirt, feeling the contour of each ab as I covertly searched for his wallet. </p><p>“I’m so sorry. Can I help you at all?” I whined, making sure to speak slowly so he could hear me slur my words. </p><p>“No, no, I’m alright.” he smiled politely, shooing my hand away. “Cheers. Be safe.” </p><p>“You,” I started, ignoring his dismissal. “You look rather troubled. Anything a woman’s perspective can help?” </p><p>He chuckled, rubbing at the wet spot on his stomach. “Have a good night, Miss.” </p><p>I was relentless back then--a bold twenty-one year old with nothing to lose except maybe the month’s rent in a blacked out rager if I wasn’t careful. Being the life of the party was the only thing getting me by. The song blaring over the speakers was enough to sway to, so I stayed directly behind him while he tried to ignore me. </p><p>“I saw you looking at me earlier,” I told him with confidence. “You were in the crowd at that ridiculously small promotion out in Paradise Heights.” </p><p>His head whipped back around and he looked me up and down. “You do look familiar.” </p><p>“Jade West,” I tried to jog his memory. “Stella Giordano on Planet Earth.” </p><p>“Enchanting performance,” he chuckled, reaching for my hand so that he could gently kiss my knuckles. “Forgive me. My eyes are starting to fail me.” </p><p>“You’re a whiskey guy, right?” I asked, preparing myself for the worst.</p><p>“Are you a whiskey girl?” </p><p>I gulped but nodded enthusiastically. “What’ll we toast to?” </p><p>He scratched his chin somewhere in the depths of his graying beard. When he turned to order the round, I glanced at my group with a thumb’s up and fully immersed myself in an evening with a completely taboo man. </p><p>Just one whiff made me want to vomit what with all of the tequila bubbling in my stomach. I pursed my lips and held my breath until he finally raised his glass in front of me. “To your stunning victory for the Paradise Women’s Title.” </p><p>I tossed back the toxic liquid with a quickness, wiping my lips and ensuring to scrub my taste buds as best I could without stimulating my gag reflex. It didn’t sit well on the top of my stomach, but I put on my best smile and slid closer to him again. </p><p>“Let’s not talk about wrestling. What brings you out tonight?” I purred, dragging my hand over his front pockets, unable to locate what I was really looking for. </p><p>“I was just,” he paused, feeling my hands tease his lower back when I retracted them. “Thirsty.” </p><p>“There’s a low-traffic spot around the corner,” I insisted, hoping to get him moving so that I could potentially slip my hands into his back pockets. </p><p>“Oh yeah?” he purred, getting closer to me and uttering his next sentence in a threatening tone. “You can get your hands out of my pockets now.”</p><p>I stayed true to my cocky stance, keeping my expression as stony as possible as he put a small distance between us. He was clearly amused with me but I couldn’t tell why. We stared at each other, daring the other to say something first. I pushed my frizzing dark hair, virgin to the maroon dye that I so religiously slathered from root to tip nowadays, in front of my shoulders being sure to push my lower lip out in an innocent pout. </p><p>“All a beautiful girl like you has to do is ask,” he finished quietly, gesturing for the bartender to settle us up on the same tab. “You can call me Paul.” </p><p>“You visiting for a little while?” I twisted my shoulders back and forth. </p><p>“Just long enough apparently.” </p><p>“Are we getting out of here or what?” </p><p>He was smiling, allowing me to clutch both sides of his leather jacket. “You’d be perfect for my new developmental brand. Why don’t you call me in the morning?” </p><p>“Why don’t you roll over and remind me yourself in the morning?” I joked, adding a cute chuckle to the end of my proposition.</p><p>“I’m married,” he insisted more than once in the same breath as if he needed to remind himself.</p><p>It didn’t take much more convincing than me showing him that I’d managed to swipe his entire wallet while we’d been speaking. His room key was dangling between my thumb and pointer, matching my dark green nails. The rest of the night occurred in snapshots for me--a covert journey, stumbling down an otherwise quiet hallway, sensations I was convinced I’d never feel again without him. In the morning, I woke up with his gigantic arm crushing my waist and his face pressed into my chest. It was the first and last time I’d ever seen Paul Levesque.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Why would you take off if you haven’t properly planted your feet?” H scolded me from the other side of the rope. </p><p>I turned sharply with my eyes closed, collecting myself before I lost my temper. “My feet were planted.”</p><p>“Then how come you didn’t get more air?” </p><p>“Can we change the music?” I whined, gesturing to the speaker that had been blaring metal music in my ear for the better part of an hour. </p><p>“No title, no say-so,” he sneered, pointing to the far corner of the ring. “Suicide dive.” </p><p>“I’m not comfortable with a moonsault yet.” </p><p>“Yeah, I don’t trust you not to snap your spine. Hit the rope.” </p><p>I did the exact opposite of what I was told, climbing to the top rope with my back to H and a sly smile thrown over my shoulder. He hopped back up to my side, gripping my waist and getting close enough to me so that the completely empty room couldn’t hear what he said to me. </p><p>“So help me God, Stella, if you don’t stop wasting my time--” </p><p>“Your way isn’t right,” I snapped, quickly adding, “for me.” </p><p>“Is that so?” his lips disappeared inside his facial hair. “This is why you’re going to Smackdown, by the way.” </p><p>I dropped down to his level, still leaning on the ropes across from him so that our faces were inches away. “Is it because I’m a diva?” </p><p>“It’s because you need to be ripped apart by your own kind and they’ll be the ones to do it to you.” he flicked his eyebrows upward, letting our noses brush briefly before he stepped down and retrieved his bag. “I’m done here.” </p><p> </p><p>“Enjoy your day!” I called sweetly after him knowing he wouldn’t turn around to receive the finger I’d extended in his direction. </p><p>He was met at the door by someone I couldn’t see. They exchanged words and in walked someone I wasn’t used to seeing in street clothes. His hair was pulled up in a bun and the gym shorts were uncharacteristic for him. He was grinning, trying to contain his amusement. Casting his drawstring bag aside, he slid into the ring and scrambled to his feet until we were sharing the center of the ring. </p><p>“Jeff,” he said like I hadn’t watched him surpass me too. </p><p>“I know who you are, Elias,” I responded, taking the hand that he offered. “We were in NXT together.” </p><p>His eyes widened. “Oh my God, that’s right! I’m sorry, it’s been--”</p><p>I tried not to sound hurt, taking a step back so that I could swing my arms awkwardly. “This ring is occupied actually. Try any other ring. They’re first come first serve.” </p><p>He scanned the desolate training space, soaking up the discomfort that I purposefully sent his direction. “Holy shit, ah…” </p><p>“I’m sorry,” I said honestly. “It’s been--it’s been a ride.” </p><p>“You’re telling me,” he laughed, taking a seat where he was and leaning back on his palms. “If I don’t shuck the douchebag drifter persona soon, I might lose my mind. They made me record that ridiculous EP and now it’s a struggle to take myself seriously.” </p><p>Watching him chew on his bottom lip while he lost himself in thought made me realize that we were nearly one and the same. We were around to make other people look good--a laughing stock if there ever was one. I don’t know how long we stayed in that ring just talking, but I couldn’t believe we’d never done it before. </p><p>The early morning had turned into midday by the time we’d actually taken to being productive. He was supporting me by the arm and wrist as I lightly stepped across the top rope, ready to imitate The Undertaker’s famous arm drag. Just before I could jump down to fake a throw, my foot slipped and I tumbled from the ropes and into his waiting arms.</p><p>“I saw that coming from a mile away,” he grunted, setting me upright. “You need to plant your feet first.” </p><p>I sighed, keeping my hands in his without even realizing. “Right, thanks.” </p><p>“I wish H would give me the time of day that he gives you. Most people pay tens of thousands of dollars to get the training you get.” </p><p>“Don’t start with me, please,” I covered my ears and ventured to the other end of the ring unaware that he’d been a step behind me the entire time. “There was no reason for me to be in NXT for this long.” </p><p>He shrugged, not wishing to say the wrong thing. “You’re a dancer, right?”</p><p>“Why?” </p><p>“Dance with me,” he insisted, taking my hands and pulling me through a quick routine. “Grapple--break--headlock--flip.”</p><p>We counted out the beats together while I followed his lead. He placed my hand on the back of his neck, brought himself to my side for a headlock, then braced me for a flip over his shoulder. I hit the mat with a heavy thud, blinking away the bright lights above me. </p><p>“Keep a rhythm and you’ll never botch another move.” he mused, offering to help me to my feet. </p><p>Superstars and trainees began to fill up the rings around us, but it felt like we were still alone. The air was thick with adrenaline and the moisture of sweat accumulating in the closed off room. I spent a lot of time on the top rope with his hands lightly grasping my ankles for support. Once my core had finally stabilized, he ducked under and stood right in front of me. </p><p>“Cross-body,” he instructed with his arms out. “Plant your feet.” </p><p>I rolled my eyes and bent my knees, immediately feeling my left foot leave the rope. I jumped too far forward, knocking him farther backward than he’d expected although he kept us both upright. </p><p>“I planted!”</p><p>“Quit trying to make the move happen and just… let it happen.” </p><p>I looked him up and down with a playful sneer. “Nobody likes the guitar guy at the party--he thinks he knows everything.” </p><p>“Same goes for the know-it-all chick.” he shot back dryly. “I’ve been you before--arrogant, omnipotent in my own mind--you and Jade West aren’t shit. You could snap your ACL beyond immediate repair and be replaced before they even cart you out of the ring. Be grateful for this crazy opportunity and get it done right.” </p><p>“Can I interrupt?” called a familiar, loving voice from beneath us. </p><p>Adrienne was leaning on the apron, her extensions tied up at the nape of her neck. She was smiling like usual and sipping from the sport cap on her water bottle looking like she’d just finished a workout. I slid under the ropes, giving Jeff time to stretch while the two of us spoke. </p><p>“Word on the street is you’re headed to Smackdown,”</p><p>“How does everyone know?” I groaned.</p><p>“Office chatter--our office just happens to be a locker room.” she shrugged. “I’m looking to switch up Ember’s storyline if you’re interested in being a part of it.” </p><p>I glanced over my shoulder, watching Jeff pull his massive bicep behind his head like it was nothing. He caught me staring and diverted his eyes as quickly as I had giving Adrienne enough of a cue to smirk and begin her exit. </p><p>“Give it some thought and get back to me on it--but mums the word, okay?” </p><p>I zipped my lips shut and hopped back into the ring where Jeff was bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Thank you for this--the training and talking--I feel like I have fewer and fewer friends the longer I go on.” </p><p>“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” His soft gaze rattled me to the point where I had to remind myself that there was nothing behind it. I was put at ease by his quick little bow as he stepped out of the ring to collect his gear and head for the door. “If you ever need anything, I’d be happy to help.” </p><p>I watched him leave, wondering how I’d never taken notice of him before. He wasn’t like the big buff brawlers trying to prove they were bigger than the last guy. There was an air about him that let you know that he was making moves for himself--quietly. Before he threw open the large glass door, he snuck a peek back in my direction, once again averting his eyes when he caught me looking back at him. </p><p>My face turned hot and my stomach sank into my knees. I’d never felt the need to run after someone for fear of never sharing another moment again--and that told me something. I grabbed my phone from my backpack and opened up the contact with a single orange heart. </p><p>“I owe him better than that,” I whispered to myself, unsure of what was coming over me. </p><p>My drive home was mostly silent so that I could hear myself think clearly. As I turned the corner into my cul-de-sac, it became apparent that the screeching guitar that I could hear from the main road was coming from my very own garage. A rental truck was backed directly into the center of my driveway leaving me no room for my car. I wrenched the gear shift into park and left the keys in the ignition where it sat, confused as to why my garage was open and heavy metal was disturbing the typically quiet street. </p><p>I sprinted past two men on either side of a large treadmill that had been folded for transport into the washroom where I ran smack into Thomas who was trying to exit. His shirt was draped around his neck and he reeked of bourbon like he’d been in action for hours. </p><p>“Hey, roomie,” he sang, sliding his arm over my shoulder and whistling to his company. “Austin, Gorgeous, just leave that there. She and I can talk about where everything goes now.”</p><p>I was staring at Xavier Woods and Tyler Breeze, both in beanies despite the heavy humidity that only meant a thunderstorm was eminent. They waved shyly, hesitant to comment on the scene unfolding in front of me. Thomas tapped me on the top of the head to the beat of the grunge song playing on the speakers sitting beside a perfectly empty shelf.</p><p>Seething with anger, I reached my sneaker in their direction, hitting the button to turn it off with a force that knocked them over. My ears were ringing in the newfound silence, but that didn’t stop me from shouting at the top of my lungs. </p><p>“WHAT--ARE--YOU--DOING?”</p><p>“My house is being shown all day today--remember?” he rolled his eyes and jabbed his thumb at me. “We talked about this last night. I’m moving in with you for the time being.” </p><p>“I told you a few days.” </p><p>“Okay, but last night,” he pulled me away from Austin and Mattias who’d already excused themselves to the back of the truck where plenty more objects were in need of permanent places. “Do you not remember our conversation?” </p><p>“I was sleeping.” I hissed. “You know I’m a lucid dreamer.”</p><p>“So you weren’t awake when you told me to move in until I could get the house sold?” </p><p>Ice ran through my chest and into my extremities. “I what?” </p><p>“You said--and I quote--’Just move in if you’re so worried about it. Sell the house and get another one’.”</p><p>“You’re making this up,” I shot back quickly. “I couldn’t have.” </p><p>“Don’t make me pull up the video,” he threatened. “You’re an ugly sleeper.” </p><p>With an urge to shove him into the scattered items ruining my perfect organization, I instead stomped inside to assess the amount of cleanup time it’d take to make my space look like my own again. Surprisingly, only the kitchen was overrun with new gadgets that I couldn’t even name. A new knife block sat beside my beat up set that had seen many roommates and zero sharpeners. He’d been in the process of setting up his wine cage when I’d interrupted him.</p><p>“Take it all out,” I demanded. “Thomas, get out of my house!” </p><p>“No,” he scoffed, slipping his shirt over the back of one of my breakfast bar chairs. “No take backs.” </p><p>“We haven’t even established a system.” I grimaced, picking up the shirt along with a few other stray items that weren’t mine. “I like my space and you have no idea what that entails.” </p><p>“Most of my shit’s in the basement,” he ventured to the fridge, extracting an expensive cut of beef. “I won’t tamper with your weird perfectionism.” </p><p>He plugged in the foreign crock pot next to the sink and unwrapped the plastic. I stomped over and unplugged it just as quickly, eliciting an incredulous scowl. Like it was nothing, he snatched back the cord and began to migrate the appliance around the kitchen, babbling over my demands to stop what he was doing. My last resort was something that neither of us expected. I took a deep breath and belted the loudest shriek I possibly could. </p><p>Thomas fumbled with the pot, nearly taking out the glass in my back door. As I expected, in stumbled Austin, his comical ways as Xavier spilling over into his personality. His wide eyes searched for danger only to narrow when he saw Thomas and me standing like fools between the kitchen and the living room. </p><p>“This is the last time I blindly sign on to help a friend--what’s going on here?” </p><p>“Why are you moving his stuff into my house?” I asked the victim like he was the culprit. </p><p>“Why are we moving your stuff into her house?” he asked.</p><p>“So you know my garage code then?” I followed up with my palms pressed into my temples. </p><p>“I know where your spare key is, dingus,” Thomas laughed. “Trust me--you won’t even know I’m here.”</p><p>Newsflash--I knew he was there.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That signature upstroke that followed Elias’ announcement had never sent chills up my spine like it did when I returned. The event was about as subtle as it got--a filler match, to say the least, against two characters who were on the verge of finding themselves for good. Thomas and I were set to interrupt as was always expected, but I almost couldn’t bring myself to follow suit when Baron’s heavy guitar intro thundered over the measly acoustic guitar.</p><p>We were the filler match, the ones who held everyone’s place while they refilled their beers and finally caved to the arena food prices. Elias had already taken off his robe when we made it into the ring hand-in-hand until the referee showed me back to the sideline. </p><p>“Hang on a second--The famous Jade West is back?” Jeff called into his headset. “Ooh, she is  a cutie, Corbin. You did well for yourself.” </p><p>“C’mon, man. What are you doing?” Thomas asked, trying to stay in character while he did so. </p><p>Jeff leaned around Thomas to address me. “Hey, sweetheart. Does he have you trapped? I can save you, y’know. All you have to do is… walk with Elias.” </p><p>It was the perfect improv. The Universe was eating it up in every way. A group sitting ringside was shouting obscenely in my direction, but the three of us were too engrossed in this new storyline to pay attention to the outside world. Not once did Jeff look up at Thomas even when he stuck out his chest and tried to come between us. As Stella, I got butterflies like a kindergarten crush. Jade, on the other hand, gagged and waved him away like an afterthought. </p><p>Thomas took me back to the ropes ready to lean in for a kiss when he spoke up once more. “Who needs a belt when you can put her on the line?” </p><p>If the whole arena wasn’t paying attention before, they certainly were when he made that comment. Both Thomas’ and my jaw dropped in unison, unable to believe he’d gone off-script to say something.</p><p>“He wants to get wrecked,” Thomas sighed, sliding up his sleeves and turning to charge the man who was already waiting for him with his guitar at the ready. </p><p>Jeff jabbed the instrument into Thomas’ gut and then immediately broke it over his back. I had fun insulting him from the apron, stalking back and forth where the cameras could see me. They were halfway through our time slot when Thomas clotheslined Jeff over the top rope onto my side. He hit the barricade and rolled onto his stomach with a massive groan, taking well to the curb stomp that I quickly delivered before the ref could see. </p><p>“I got this, baby,” Thomas called to me when he was close to a mic. </p><p>He slid from the ring and picked Jeff up by the hair to drag him back while I cheered him on with a vengeful glint in my eye. They both had their eyes on me without each other’s knowledge when they. Either they were selling the hell out of this newfound feud or a fight was actually taking place in my honor. Thomas was certainly heated in a way I’d never seen him before. His usual Baronesque smirk played across his face the entire time he flung Jeff from post to post until finally, the upperhand switched. </p><p>Jeff dug his shoulder into Thomas’ rib cage and took him down into a cover which Thomas kicked out from at the last second. Elias’ chant erupted from the crowd--Oh, walk with Elias! He let the song fuel his many aggressive chops to Tom’s chest, eventually running for the opposite rope in a failed attempt to clothesline the tired man. Tom grabbed him in such a way that made End of Days possible. I hopped onto the apron to nag the ref to count faster, but Jeff surprised us both by kicking out rather quickly. </p><p>I could do nothing but keep my hands over my gaping mouth while I watched Thomas fall backwards from a swift kick to the chin. Jeff crawled over his limp body, lifting his leg and covering his shoulders until the ref slapped me mat for the third time. The Universe went wild and I didn’t know what to do with myself in the meantime as a dazed Tom blinked away the pain rushing to his jaw. </p><p>When I slid under the ring, Jeff caught me by the waist and held me right against him so that I could feel the sweat on his abdomen starting to dampen the thin material that made up my vest. I could feel his hand travelling higher up my back and the rest of the arena was melting away in my peripherals. The lights surrounding us reflected off of his eyes, making them a more washed out blue than I was used to. </p><p>The corner of his lip was twitching upward in an attempt to maintain character. I too was having a hard time, but was finally able to remove myself from his proximity to help Thomas out of the ring. He was glaring back at the ring the entire time I tried to hurry him up the ramp with burning cheeks and no desire for yet another plot twist I had no control over.</p><p>“I don’t like the way he was looking at you.” Thomas snapped once we’d broken the plane of the curtain. “Who does he think he is?”</p><p>“Let it go, Tom.” I insisted, trying to get him as far away from the entrance as I could.</p><p>“Absolutely not.” He turned around just as Jeff emerged undoing the scarves around his wrists. “What the hell was that?”</p><p>Jeff kept his composure, looking up slightly to meet eyes with a furious Thomas. “A great show--that happens to be over now.” </p><p>“Who gave you the okay to talk about her like that?” </p><p>“Thomas, relax.” </p><p>“”Chill out, man. Did you hear that reaction?” </p><p>“Fuck a reaction,” Thomas growled, crashing his chest into Jeff’s before I could intervene. “Know your boundaries.” </p><p>“Oh, okay,” I chirped quickly, slipping between the two of them with my back to Jeff. “We’re walking away.” </p><p>I shot Jeff an apologetic glance and wrapped my arms around Thomas’ forearm without thinking about it. He shook me loose with a furious grunt as he did his best to calm himself down. </p><p>“He actually thinks he’s God’s gift to the WWE--that prick.” </p><p>“Thomas, it’s a storyline!” I huffed, considering whether or not I should follow him.</p><p>He answered my question by turning around and barreling down on me with a finger in my face. “So all of a sudden you’re okay with someone writing your next steps? You should have been the first of us to snap!”</p><p>“It’s not that big a deal,” I shrugged, leaning against the wall. </p><p>“You disgust me,” he half laughed. “You want to bang that hippie drifter.” </p><p>“It’s a gimmick.” </p><p>“Dammit,” Tom sighed. “I’m gonna fight him.” </p><p>With that, Thomas sped back in the direction we’d come from rolling up his sleeves and yelling something about suspension. Shocked yells erupted from somewhere in the distance letting me know that he’d connected with his target. I took off my thigh-high boots and darted after him, arriving just in time to see H and a few officials separating the two with a camera crew dancing around them at the perfect angle. My stomach dropped, knowing what this more than likely meant for the upcoming pay-per-view. H spoke clearly into the microphone overhead with both men genuinely lunging for each other on each arm. </p><p>“Gentlemen! You will settle this--just not here. Prepare yourselves for Royal Rumble. Winner gets the lovely Jade West as their manager after Wrestlemania.” </p><p>“Um, no?” I barked before I could stop myself, joining them on live television to further smear the hot mess around more. “You can’t be serious! I was Raw Women’s Champion for crying out loud! Where’s my match? Where’s my ring time? I’m a wrestler, not a cheerleader!” </p><p>Coldly, H advanced on me allowing the camera to zoom in on us. “You want a match? I’ll give you a match, Hellcat. Elias, Baron--we’ll see you at Royal Rumble. Jade, see you and Alexa in the ring tonight.” </p><p>“No,” I stormed off after him out of frame. “Paul, you’re getting a kick out of watching me squirm, aren’t you?” </p><p>“It’s my job to make matchups that’ll put asses in seats, kid. If you want to give me material to work with, it’s on you.”</p><p>“You’re playing God and it’s getting a little ridiculous.” I shouted after him, feeling white hot rage tempting me to say more. </p><p>“Please, keep that blasphemy out of here,” he chuckled arrogantly. “If anything, consider me a grown man playing dolls.” </p><p>He slipped into his office without another word, leaving me to pound on the metal until I no longer felt tension in my arms and chest. Panting, I slid down the wall and let my hair cascade around my knees while they hid my face. A pair of soft hands slid around my upper thighs and in mixed purple hair strands in amongst my maroon. I smiled, grateful to have a moment with a fresh face.</p><p>“This place is killing you, Smalls.” </p><p>“Sasha,” barked a backstage hand, gesturing for her to make her way to the curtain for her ring time. </p><p>Turning back to me, she squeezed my legs. “Don’t sign that contract. So many other promotions would kill to have the old Hellcat.” </p><p>“What old Hellcat? This is me.” </p><p>“You look just as stiff as Tom in this vest, girl.” Mercedes pointed out, adjusting her glasses before they could slip down her forehead. “ Bring back the baseball shirt and glitter spandex. Revamp it and don’t let anyone else piggyback off of your success.” </p><p>“Are you okay?” I snorted, unsure of what had brought this on. </p><p>She smirked and popped one hip to the side. “I’m about done--still on the fence, but leaning towards liberation.” </p><p>My heart sank slightly. “Everyone’s leaving me again.” </p><p>“Sasha Banks, let’s go.” commanded the crew member once more.</p><p>She ignored him again and brought both of my hands up to chest level wrapped in hers. “Love you--give em hell.” </p><p>Yet another old friend power walked away from me intent on flying the coup that only I seemed to be comfortably nestled inside of. I meandered back towards my dressing room with a pit in my stomach. The gaggle of large men talking up most of the walkway was typical after a show, but when I heard the majority of them hurriedly call for my attention, my curiosity peaked. Closest to me were Drew and Colby looking like different sized replicas of each other. </p><p>They opened up a path into the middle of their circle for me to enter. I received nods from Jeff, big bad Adam, and Thomas who looked reluctant to be in the chat. Colby dropped his large hands on both of my shoulders and squeezed a couple of times.</p><p>“Stella, we’re staging a mutiny.” he whispered. </p><p>“I got to thinking while Thomas chose to unleash on me without warning--this entire match is counterproductive to Women’s Evolution.”</p><p>“You think?” I sneered. </p><p>“Which is why,” Colby shook me slightly. “We’re suspending you above the ring and turning this into a ladder match for your honor.”</p><p>“Yeah, screw the Royal Rumble this year.” Adam bellowed, his cut up “Get These Hands” shirt falling away from his chest when he leaned forward to talk to me. </p><p>“Whoa, we didn’t say that.” Jeff interjected. “The Rumble is still taking place. This will just be the precursor to the Greatest Royal Rumble indeed.” </p><p>“How many times do I have to shout ‘no’ for you to hear me? That is the worst idea! Good luck getting that approved.”</p><p>“We’re taking this into our own hands,” Drew added. “Hence the hushed tones and group huddle.” </p><p>“Suspending me over the ring as a prize is going to look horrible.” </p><p>“Not if…” Jeff scratched his chin. </p><p>“Not even,” I folded my arms. “We can’t go that off-script.”</p><p>“We can.” Colby gestured to the lot.</p><p>“Oy,” Jeff let a slight whistle slide through his teeth as he gestured to Sevelina to join the conversation. “You want a slice of history for Nia?”</p><p>She squeaked with surprise when she saw me in the center of the huddle. “I’m deathly afraid to ask what’s going on here.”</p><p>“We’re about to hit the gas on the road to Wrestlemania.” Adam told her excitedly. </p><p>I locked eyes with Thomas whose lips were in a thin line parallel to his heavy brow. He immediately changed his demeanor to act like he’d been involved in the conversation the entire time. Neither of us were listening anymore, just doing our best to make it back to Orlando without falling apart like we knew was inevitable. We pretended for the rest of the trip like nothing was on our minds.</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>By the time we flew to Phoenix for the Royal Rumble, Thomas had become noticeably ill. The dark circles beneath his eyes contrasted with his sickly complexion and I’d been having a hard time communicating with him even from a few feet away. He spent all of his time in the locker room for the most part until finally, I stumbled upon him blankly staring down into the vegetable platter with his hands in his pockets and a few unquestioning superstars around him. </p><p>“Do you want to talk?” I asked, casually joining him in his place. </p><p>“When can babies start eating solid food?” he asked, the first string of words I’d heard in a while.</p><p>“Don’t have one--couldn’t tell you,” I shrugged. “What’s on your mind?” </p><p>I watched the internal struggle over whether or not I was worthy of the information in his head. He lowered his eyes with a half-hearted smirk. “Nothing--it’s nothing.” </p><p>“Doesn’t look like nothing.” </p><p>I was caught off guard by his sudden start out of the room, arms pumping wildly as he flew between Sheamus and Cesaro who were laughing heartily until they both received a shoulder check. Running after him was the least of my worries. Watching him hightail it down the hall into the backstage area was slightly comical to say the least, as if Jack Skellington had left the stove on somewhere. No one paid him any mind--typical Thomas losing his marbles before a show just like everyone else--and I knew that was part of the problem. </p><p>“Jade West, we need you in five.” called a brand new face who knew my schedule better than I did. </p><p>“Well look at you,” called Shane, someone I didn’t realize I absolutely needed to see. “If it wasn’t inappropriate as hell, I’d go out there and fight for your honor myself.” </p><p>It was easy to forget that Shane genuinely cared. He hardly showed his face where his sister was present and treated Smackdown like his child. Looking into Shane’s warm eyes, polar opposite to Stephanie in every way, I was suddenly at ease with how everything was unfolding. </p><p>“This is a great idea in my opinion.” Shane started walking by my side. “I think you guys are playing into the Women’s Evolution just right.” </p><p>“Believe me, that took a lot of work.” I laughed, reflecting back to the many bottles of wine and pieces of useless papers shared between Jeff and myself while Thomas sulked in my basement. </p><p>We both caught sight of Triple H and a few other suited men joined by a camera crew hurrying in my direction. H quickly caught me by the elbow, spun me around, and positioned me so that it looked like we had been walking with a purpose together the entire time. Shane called out words of luck, but didn’t dare acknowledge the stern-faced man beside me. </p><p>I picked at a piece of lint on my brand new pale blue skirt and only half listened as he engaged me in conversation so that the cameras could catch a candid moment of us actually not getting along. </p><p>“The remainder of your Raw contract is worthless.” he murmured only loud enough for me to hear. “As soon as there’s an opportunity to write you out, we’re jumping on it--you hear me?” </p><p>“I’m sensing the destruction of a once beautiful friendship.” I pointed out. </p><p>“You have a disgusting attitude, Jade.” he responded a little louder. “All this time I’ve invested in you is time I’ll never get back.”</p><p>It was as if he’d doused me in gasoline and dropped a match. My entire body was hot enough to turn into a clammy, shaking mess--still live and finding it very hard to stay in character. I couldn’t shout anything at him that wouldn’t get us kicked off the air, so instead, I signaled to Heath Slater, who was walking past at the time, that I was getting ready to run him into the nearby equipment cases. His eyes widened when I gripped the back of his neck and flung him with more force than I’d meant to. </p><p>Once the cameras finished rolling, we received a small round of applause from bystanders who knew good improv when they saw it. Heath stood up and worked his shoulder around, but carried forward with a smile nonetheless. H, who had been out of frame the entire time, gave me no more than a half-cocked eyebrow to let me know I hadn’t impressed him in the slightest. </p><p>“I don’t care,” I huffed, replying to more than one statement he’d ever made to me--replying to every critique that went overboard, to every threat he’d made to keep me as in line as he could from start to finish, to the number of drunk voicemails I’d woken up to and otherwise ignored. “I don’t care.” </p><p>Walking past him felt like trying to ignore the largest cat in the jungle standing in plain sight. I kept him in my peripherals although I knew full well he wasn’t about to follow me. Soon, I was entering the dark arena and got clipped to the little wooden swing that would suspend me above the ring just out of reach of however many eager arms. </p><p>Thomas snuck up the ramp doing his best to avoid eye contact with me while he got into position and had a quick discussion with Mike Rome about what would be said. At long last, he peered over at me, but I was on my way up with white knuckles wrapped around the supposedly sturdy cords holding me above the ring. In character, Thomas rubbed the top of his shiny head while he paced back and forth. </p><p>“Ladies and gentlemen,” Mike started. “This match is scheduled for one-fall--for the management services and heart of Hellcat Jade West--in this corner, weighing two-hundred-eighty-five pounds--Phoenix’s favorite son--Baron Corbin!” </p><p>He hopped up and down a few times, looking displeased underneath his act. My head was buzzing while Elias was announced. Eventually, I tuned in to watch him poorly play his guitar as he ambled up the ramp speaking like a muse for absolutely no reason. He was so easy to watch dressed in that awful robe and scarves aplenty. Those soft eyes peered up at me with a quick wink that the cameras couldn’t catch. I could feel myself blushing and quickly turned the smile to a sneer. </p><p>“Come and get me, Baron!” I pleaded, gripping the left cord with both hands while I waited for the swing to steady. </p><p>While he lost himself somewhere in his head, Jeff attacked with a blow to the back of his knees. Thomas cried out and did his best to cover his face while he was relentlessly beaten on. I was curious to see how the rest of this match had been organized and was eventually startled by Braun Strowman’s music. </p><p>He marched down the ramp holding a microphone in his hands like it was a soda bottle. “You two are disgusting--out here treating this young lady like a prize after all the hard work that was put into the Women’s Evolution…” </p><p>“Hey, mind your business, buddy. I can handle mine.” Thomas grumbled into his own microphone. </p><p>“Jade, what are you doing with this guy?” Braun asked me. “Is this what you want?”</p><p>I covered my face, unsure of how to react to any of the improv taking place. He carried on speaking although I hardly paid attention, just wondering how all of this was going to end for any of us. We knew how long we had in the ring, but what could Jeff could possibly have up his sleeve was beyond me. </p><p>“I’m gonna get you down from there, little lady. When I do, you won’t have to answer to anyone!” </p><p>“What on Earth is this?” I whined to myself, unable to stand the heat of the lights for much longer. </p><p>Burn it down!</p><p>Seth’s music quickly faded as he strode onto the stage already dressed for a fight. “No, no, no, this is embarrassing! I can’t just sit back in the locker room and watch you buffoons destroy all that the Women’s Evolution stood for.” </p><p>Confused chatter grew louder beyond the barricade. From where I was it was hard to tell whether that was a good or bad thing. With four large men in the ring ruthlessly laying into each other, I was left to feel my legs starting to slip around in the pool of sweat forming beneath my hamstrings. The few times I shifted made the harness around my waist sit wrong around my mostly exposed middle and I was ready to have two feet firmly planted on the ground again. </p><p>Next came Drew McIntyre with the idea that he wanted to use me to weaken all the slobbering dogs in the locker room so that he could rise to the top--honestly, I wish I knew how this match received any sort of approval--then came Finn to reiterate our friendship. I watched the six men rumble on in silence, once again having to readjust myself. </p><p>At one point, Seth was alone in the ring with a ladder that he propped up just beneath my one outstretched foot. It wasn’t hard for him to fly up the rungs to steady my swinging legs. He fiddled with the carabiner keeping my right side attached, but was quickly ripped away by Braun who made the ladder shake with each step. </p><p>“Careful,” he whispered to me when he watched my hips slide forward. “You okay up here?” </p><p>“Hot lights,” I spat, knowing a camera was on us. </p><p>“We’ll be done soon. Peace out.” he let Drew start to beat on him from the other side of the ladder.</p><p>The Scottish Psychopath reached for me, but in the process of gripping my ankle, slipped on his next step which dragged me farther than it should have. The harness slipped up my waist which left my lower half dangling at just the right level to knock into the ladder. Both the equipment and the man tumbled away, eliciting gasps and cheers from the Universe. It was easy to hoist myself back into a proper sitting position, but my heart was hammering and my stomach had turned sour from nerves. </p><p>Baron was sliding into the ring to attack Finn who stood on the apron staring up at me with fear in his eyes. After Finn dropped to the ground, Baron was the victim of a Super Kick from Seth. I added a distressed shout to the story that was answered by Seth picking up Baron by the neck and shoulders so that he could cup his chin.</p><p>“Say goodbye to your better half, Corbin,” Seth laughed maniacally. </p><p>“Pathetic,” Roared a voice no one was expecting. </p><p>Even Thomas had to pretend to wake up to see who was coming down the ramp to no music. My blood turned to ice, locking my joints in place as I watched him point up at me like he’d lost his mind. </p><p>“What are you doing up there, Jade? Do these animals really mean that much to you?” Jon gestured at the arena, ignoring the fact that Renee was out of her seat like she was ready to run at a moment’s notice. “You look ridiculous up there--waiting to see whose cheerleader you’ll be. Don’t you see what happened to you? Don’t you see what he did to you?” </p><p>Now sitting on one of the top turnbuckles, he acknowledged Thomas who was on his knees in the middle of the ring waiting for the next move. Next thing I knew, the plan imploded. Jeff was staring up at me from the floor with wide eyes, unsure of where Jon could have come from. </p><p>“You’re embarrassing yourself--no one wants to see a damsel in distress. Are you doing this because Hunter batted his stupid eyelashes in your direction? That’s why you stayed in NXT all this time, isn’t it? See, Baron? She doesn’t love you? Despite what the media thinks, she doesn’t love me either. Tell them, Jade. You have such a huge crush on The Game that you’d do anything--even sit on a swing so that he could watch men fight for the one thing he’ll always have--you.” </p><p>Colby started walking towards Jon with one hand out, doing his best to make it look like he was diffusing a fake situation. Jon hopped into the ring and nudged him to the side so that he could kneel to Thomas’ level. </p><p>“Are you really that much of a fool, Baron? You thought you’d be able to ride those tiny coat tails to the top?” he asked, pointing up to me in the process. “Are you going to tell her about your deal with Vince or should I?” </p><p>Thomas snatched the microphone from Jon’s grip and leaned forward so that they were face-to-face. “Do what you want, man. Fuck all of this. I’m out of here.”</p><p>The Universe was silent except for the few hums coming from those who really couldn’t grasp what was going on in the middle of an important pay-per-view. It felt odd watching him stomp away from the ring without a single glance back in my direction. As he turned the corner to hide backstage, Nia Jax’s music scared everyone on our side of the barricade. She tumbled down the ramp, knocked Jon over, and picked up the microphone laying nearby.</p><p>“Get over yourselves! I’m sure the Universe appreciates the filler match, but nobody wants to watch you fight over someone who’s only relevant because Ronda Rousey can’t control her temper.” Having not expected those harsh words, my jaw dropped and I lined up a few insults of my own to hurl at her the second I had a chance. “Now I’m going to climb this ladder--none of you are going to stop me, I’m going to rescue this poor girl, and then Jade, I want to see you in the ring tomorrow night one-on-one. It’s been a while since I’ve played with a rag doll.” </p><p>It was definitely a good setup and I was certainly thankful to be getting out of the harness, but I could definitely wait for the many confrontations about to take place. When I was finally unhooked, I didn’t even wait for any sort of finish. I booked it behind the curtain and got caught by Triple H’s strong arm. He reeled me in and whirled me around to face him. “Prepare yourself a call-out for Nia. Lucky you--someone saved your career again.” </p><p>“Mad you can’t write me out yet, Paul?” </p><p>He didn’t react to my outburst, instead putting his nose in his phone like he had no time for me like he’d been doing a lot in recent days. A hand slid over my shoulder when he was just barely out of sight, turning me slightly so that I was looking into Jeff’s calm blue eyes. </p><p>“That was a flop,” he smirked. “But it’s got people talking already--good and bad.” </p><p>“Where’s Thomas?” I asked, removing his hand from my shoulder even though I was beginning to crave his touch over all others. </p><p>“I haven’t seen him since I’ve been back here.” </p><p>I shot him an apologetic gaze and did my best to weave quickly through the backstage crew. The labyrinth of hallways ended just as fast with his door shut tight at the end of the hallway. The door was locked, but I threw my bodyweight into it anyway hoping he’d answer it for my urgency. </p><p>“Get away!” he shouted, throwing something heavy at the door to make it rattle. </p><p>“Thomas!” I pleaded, trying the door handle again. “Thomas, please talk to me.” </p><p>The door opened and I was wrenched inside of the dark room, only lit by dim bulbs surrounding a vanity mirror that none of us ever needed. His jaw flexed angrily as he paced back and forth debating on whether or not he needed to say what he said to me. </p><p>“Stella, I’m having a baby.” </p><p>“With who?” I asked like a fool.</p><p>“My wife?” he sneered, running a hand over his bald head. “Her due date is in three weeks.” </p><p>My jaw hit the floor. “And you’re just now finding out?” </p><p>“She’s been pregnant this entire divorce. I just haven’t seen her to be able to tell.” </p><p>Thomas’ voice wavered while he spoke. Eventually, he worked himself up to the point of throwing his fist into the counter space of the vanity. I watched him shake the pain away with tears in his eyes as he continued. </p><p>“It’s a girl--and here we are without a cigar.” </p><p>“What’s this deal you had with Vince?” I had to ask, already over the news. </p><p>“Seriously?” he laughed in disbelief. “I share the craziest, happiest news and you want to talk politics?” </p><p>“I want to talk about this psycho collusion you’ve got going on with that geriatric fuck.” I demanded. </p><p>“Well good luck getting me to talk, sister.” he cocked a half smile and picked up his duffel bag. “I’ll have my shit gone by the time you’re home. I’ve got a family to tend to.” </p><p>He shut his dressing room door behind him, leaving me alone in a room that reeked of spray deodorant and sweaty clothing. There was no one in the hall when I counted to ten to decompress and finally got the nerve to look both ways. Around the corner, Jeff had seemingly waited for me, still sporting Elias’ scarves around his wrists and neck. He immediately joined my side, aware that I was upset, but not seeming to care.</p><p>“Alright, Stella, listen. I was given the ultimate blessing and I feel like as bad a time as this is, I’ll not get another chance to tell you--”</p><p>“Hold that thought,” I insisted, spotting Jonathan off to the side with his cell phone to his ear. </p><p>I approached him just as he was turning in my direction. When I pulled my arm back to make contact with his face, he caught my wrist with an iron grip and asked the person on the other line to hold on. </p><p>“I’ve been slapped enough for one night, thank you.” </p><p>“You probably just cost me my contract, you idiot!” </p><p>“Don’t be so dramatic,” he sneered. “That dance studio you don’t spend time in seems to be doing pretty well.” </p><p>“What’s gotten into you?” I winced, not allowing him to reach for me with his typical smolder playing heavily behind his eyes. </p><p>“I’m going to AEW with an intermittent stint with New Japan. Come with me, babe.” </p><p>I realized how odd the word sounded leaving his lips. He reached for my hands, then my waist, but I pushed each advance back feeling more and more desperate to rid myself of his resentment and regret towards the company. </p><p>“Stella, what’s wrong?” </p><p>“I can’t do this,” I shook my head. “Not with you,” </p><p>“Are you serious?” he argued. “I’ve risked my own neck and my own career to make you happy!” </p><p>“We didn’t need to pick up where we left off, Jonathan,” I assured him. “Whatever we were thinking was wrong.” </p><p>“I was thinking that I finally had the love of my life back.” </p><p>I scanned his furious expression for a hint of any lies, but he remained in my face breathing heavily as both our hearts hammered away at our rib cages. With my arms folded over my exposed midriff, I held my ground. </p><p>“Did you just finish telling Renee the same thing?” </p><p>“I was ready to marry you, Stella!” Jon retorted louder than he intended. “Want to explain what was going on between you and H back then?” </p><p>I shook my head in denial feeling my knees beginning to tremble. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” </p><p>“We can all see it, Stella--the tension, his jealousy--were you two sleeping together while I was in the picture?” </p><p>“You’re one to bring up two-timing,” I laughed. </p><p>“Childish,” Jon laughed back. “Feel free to join me when you want to get serious.” </p><p>Left in a cloud of confusion, I leaned against the wall and watched Jon crack his knuckles until he was out of sight and hopefully never to be seen again. I had no reason to cry, but the tears flowed hot and heavy down my face while the strangest sensation of relief washed over me.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What’s wrong with me?</p><p>I let H finish giving me a wine-soaked kiss while the question sounded off like a bullhorn in the back of my brain. He withdrew, clearly in the mood for something more but I couldn’t stop thinking about how Jonathan was going to call me at any minute. After months of hectic schedules, he’d be in Florida sometime soon and I was conflicted with who I wanted more in the moment.</p><p>“What’s on your mind?” H purred with his forehead on mine. “You were practically silent through all of training. That’s not normal.” </p><p>“It’s nothing,” I lied. </p><p>“Look, Kitten,” he started, setting down his glass and taking both of my hands. “Steph’s never going to find out. I assured you of that.” </p><p>“It’s not that,” I groaned, sure that he was trying to convince himself more than me. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” </p><p>I got up to try and straddle his lap, but he pushed me back into my seat and immediately took on the air of Coach as he made an irritating habit of doing at the worst times. “Is it because I criticised your hurricanrana?You really do need to lock your ankles better.” </p><p>“No,” I removed his hands from my knee. “Are you serious right now?”</p><p>“You’re the one killing the mood.” he shrugged, picking up his wine again.</p><p>With an incredulous look, I stood abruptly with my phone in my hands. “Jesus, how old are you?” </p><p>“Stella, I didn’t mean it like that,” he groaned, realizing that there was no arguing with me in the moment. </p><p>I ignored him and stepped onto the small balcony, daring myself to make the phone call myself. As I brought the screen to my nose, a photo of the Lunatic himself lit up the screen. I waited through a couple of rings before answering as casually as I could. </p><p>“Well, well, well,”</p><p>“What are you wearing?” he joked.</p><p>“Wouldn’t you like to know?” </p><p>He chuckled slightly. “Is that an invitation?” </p><p>“I’m busy tonight,” I peered over my shoulder at H who was zoned out gazing at the painting I’d stolen from someone at a house party. “Let’s go to lunch tomorrow.” </p><p>“You’re going to make me wait?” </p><p>H caught sight of me watching him and, grinning behind his ever-growing beard, motioned for me to come back in and join him. He was at his best back then--a rugged action star as opposed to his current viking look, ridiculously fit without the gravity of old age to slow him down. I’d never known a lover with more endurance, one who managed to wear me out and put me to sleep easier than a strong drink or any sort of drug. There was no doubt I was addicted. </p><p>“I have to go, Jon.” I repeated pitifully. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”</p><p>Without waiting for his departure, I left my phone on the table beside the door and joined him once more, allowing him to run one hand from my nearest thigh up to my hip through the leg of my shorts. He was clearly feeling more of a buzz than I was, but he spoke clearly despite his inability to focus his eyes.</p><p>“So I was thinking--baby--we have to make you a star.” </p><p>“Can I talk to Paul instead of Triple H?” I groaned, pouring myself another glass of wine. “The last thing I want to talk about is wrestling.” </p><p>“We could talk about how we met while you were trying to pickpocket me.” he suggested, scooting closer on the cushions towards me. </p><p>“I almost want Hunter back,” I joked, pressing my fingers into the bridge of my nose. “Come on, you begged me to cancel the rest of my dance classes for the evening. Why the urgency?”</p><p>“Let’s talk about this,” he took the glass from me and set them both back on the coffee table, cutting off my silent protest. “When Steph and I finally go south, I want you to consider--consider--moving in with me.”</p><p>“Paul,” I gasped, tucking my hair behind my ears nervously. “It’s a little soon, don’t you think?” </p><p>“We’ve known each other for,” he counted on his fingers. “Eight months now. I’m not talking next week or next month.” </p><p>I cleared the rest of my glass and searched for my response. “What’s my favorite color?” </p><p>H ran his tongue over his teeth in thought. “You seem like a purple girl.” </p><p>With a scoff, I slid his hands away from me. “My point exactly.”</p><p>“I’m not asking you to start looking at houses now,” he rolled his eyes and sat back with his arm over the back of the couch. “Just know that I can see the end approaching and I want you to consider helping me start my next chapter.” </p><p>“How could you say that? How can you be here? Does marriage mean nothing to you?” </p><p>“Marriage to her means nothing,” H responded after a large sigh that brought him to a forward position with his hands on his knees. “I’ve gotten what I want out of the company. At this point, I’m convinced Vince is more in love with me than Steph is anyway. It’s all business at the end of the day.” </p><p>“And your daughters?” I prompted with folded arms. </p><p>His voice deepened. “I love my girls. You think I don’t?” </p><p>“You’re asking me to be a stepmom, Paul. At twenty-two.” </p><p>“Who said anything about you taking care of my children? Look, forget I even asked.” he snapped. “You’re making this out to be more than it is.” </p><p>“You’re making it out to be ‘just business’. Maybe we’re done here.” </p><p>H rose to his feet, towering over me as he walked slowly in my direction with a seductive smile plastered to his face. “You don’t mean that.” </p><p>“Paul, go home to your wife.” </p><p>“How about you come here?” he insisted, surprising me by lifting me by the waist and placing me on the nearby breakfast bar. </p><p>In my shock, he managed to slip his tongue across mine to silence any argument I could have possibly made. I forgot all about our talk when I slid my hands over his soft hair and pulled us together once again. He was smiling at how weak he made me and as infuriating as that was, I couldn’t feel much else over the eager twists and turns my stomach made with excitement and anticipation. We never talked about us again, instead putting all of our focus into NXT and eventually, the backburner was full of strong feelings, there was tension in professional exchanges, and as he’d promised me--Steph didn’t know a thing.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Wrestlemania was right around the corner and the monsters were out in everyone. I was sitting in H’s office staring at the envelope that sat between us. Stephanie was on his right side waiting for me to open the large yellow container with the anticipation of a parent on their child’s birthday.</p><p>“Honey, could you excuse us, please?” H asked of his wife with flat eyebrows. “As you know, this is between Stella and myself.” </p><p>Taken aback, Stephanie hesitantly left the room, slowly closing the door until it clicked shut. I could feel one level of tension dissipate, but a whole new elephant filled the room and it was obviously because he wanted it to. Pressing his fingertips together, he chose his words carefully before addressing me. </p><p>“You and I both know that your time on Raw has been nothing but a shit show.” </p><p>“Excellent start to this,” I wrinkled my nose and smiled sarcastically. </p><p>“There’s no denying it,” he shrugged, his bald head shining beneath the many lights above us. “Have you even tried to take a look at what the Universe is saying about you?” </p><p>“They still think I’m hot,” I pointed out. “Anything I do after that really doesn’t matter--you know that just as much as I do.” </p><p>“All those years in NXT and this is how you repay me for finally letting you move up?” </p><p>“What do you mean ‘letting’?” </p><p>“Please don’t start,” H begged, rubbing his temples like he’d already had enough of me. “Before we talk about this envelope, we need to talk.” </p><p>Although I knew exactly what he was talking about, I tilted my head to one side with a frown. “About what?” </p><p>“Stella,” he said softly. “Stella, Stella, Stella.” </p><p>“Paul?” I prompted him impatiently. </p><p>He slid his hands across the desk, knocking the envelope to the side in the process. When I didn’t take the hint of his outstretched palms, he pulled them back to his side of the desk and straightened his tie. </p><p>“Things are changing around here,” he started. “First, the brand needs its face back.”</p><p>“Meaning…” My eyes widened when I put two and two together. “You’re trying to demote me?” </p><p>“Not demote, honey. Listen to me,” he slid the envelope closer to me. “I want you to run the show right alongside me. It’s where you thrive. You and I have already put so much work into building the brand into what it is today.” </p><p>With a newly reeling brain, I opened the large envelope that housed nothing but a check with more zeros than I’d ever seen in one deposit. “I can’t do this.” </p><p>“Take some time to think about it,” he offered, standing from his desk and journeying to the same cabinet every rich man had within arm’s reach. “Let’s at least celebrate the offer.”</p><p>“What about Stephanie?” I whispered as he extracted a bottle of champagne from the incognito refrigerator. “Don’t I have a match tonight?” </p><p>“Well you were supposed to be in Baron’s corner, but due to unforeseen circumstances, we don’t really have much room to write Jade in this week.” When the cork was popped, he cursed his luck and looked over both shoulders. “Here we are without glasses.”</p><p>“That’s never stopped us before.” </p><p>He cocked a half smile in my direction and took the first swig. “Stell, my other offer still stands from all those years ago.” </p><p>I took two large gulps before handing him back the heavy expensive bottle. Standing there in an outfit I was desperate to change out of, watching my suited boss size me up for the first time in years, I couldn’t help but ask myself that same question I’d been asking myself forever--what was wrong with me?</p><p>He dabbed his chin with the back of his hand and crept closer, already reeking of alcohol that seeped into his beard. “It’s over--just like I said it would be. We put on for the cameras and the company, but I haven’t been home in weeks.” </p><p>“It’s almost like you’re completely unaware of my reputation.” I cried out incredulously. </p><p>“Look at me,” he cupped my chin and brought my gaze upward so that we finally locked eyes. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” </p><p>“Knock it off,” I grumbled, feeling the bubbles taking over my empty stomach. “I don’t want any of this.” </p><p>He moved his hand from my chin to my lower jaw. “Let’s rule the world. Eventually, we’ll say fuck NXT and start our own show. You’ll be the star and the ringleader all wrapped into one...gorgeous package.” </p><p>I received a faceful of wiry facial hair that caught me off guard and sent me backwards. Taking notice of my surprise, he pulled back with a sheepish grin. “Not what you remember, right?” </p><p>After catching the faint stench of a cigar mixed in with his cologne, an emotion surfaced from the depths of my memory reigniting the spark we’d once turned into a fire. I let him run his hands down the backs of my legs so that he could pick me up like he’d done often all those years ago. With one quick peck, he took me to the virtually empty desk and laid me on my back so that he could free his hands up to loosen his tie.</p><p>“Fuck them all,” he whispered. “You and me.” </p><p>“Am I talking to Paul or Triple H?” I asked before he could unbutton his shirt. </p><p>“What kind of question is that?” he winced, continuing his motions. </p><p>I used his loose tie to help me sit up, which he took as an advance. He met me halfway then guided me back onto the desk, keeping our lips together all the way down. Just like that, I relapsed--relaxing into a high that I didn’t know I needed. It felt safe, familiar, and secure. </p><p>“What are they going to think?”</p><p>“Relax,” he scolded me. “We won’t let them think anything. Like I always say--stick with me.” </p><p>From the other side of the door, we were shocked to hear Thomas’ low, flat voice. “Ahem, sorry to bother you, sir. Is Stella still in there?” </p><p>We both stood up and H responded as he put himself back together. “Yeah, just a second.” </p><p>I ran my hands through my hair a few times, catching my nails in a couple of tangles in the process. Thomas opened the door with no assistance, barreling right on in just as H had finished his tie. We both exchanged a horrified glance, realizing the door had been unlocked the entire time. Before he began his prepared speech, Thomas shot me a questioning glance and then shut the door quickly behind him.</p><p>“What the hell is this?” </p><p>“A business meeting,” I scoffed, folding my arms. “What do you want?” </p><p>“Uh-huh--I know what a ‘business meeting’ is for you, nasty. The Vice President though?” Thomas spoke of H as if he wasn’t standing directly behind me. “Are you going to get help or do I need to get it for you?” </p><p>“My relationships are none of your business,” H tried to say authoritatively. </p><p>“Hers are,” Thomas grabbed my wrist. “Stella, we have a match.” </p><p>“You have a match.” I reminded him.</p><p>“Oh please. Give us Becky and Seth.” </p><p>“Absolutely not.” H barked, surprising even me. “We have a script and, dammit, we’re sticking to it.” </p><p>“I’m cool being in your corner, Thomas.” I insisted, hoping to break up the awkward confrontation. </p><p>“Stella, you’re sleeping with the Vice President and still can’t get a good match?” he laughed to himself. </p><p>“I’m not,” I groaned. “And where have you been? No returning texts or phone calls?” </p><p>“I have a kid now, Stella. Pardon me for trying to make up for nine months in three weeks--I’m eskimo brothers with Triple H.” </p><p>“Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey” I put my hands over my ears. “We don’t talk about what happened.”</p><p>“You’re not denying it!” Thomas leapt in the air before realizing that we were amongst curious eyes. “You know the entire locker room’s going to hate you if word gets out.” </p><p>With a new headache, I did my best to get into character knowing he was watching from wherever he was. There’d been no Jonathan, no Fergal, and no Jeff to distract me, but now my every move was consumed by the thought of someone else. I wasn’t sure if the love came from my fear--fear of the unknown, fear of the man himself, fear for the reputation that was already beyond soiled. Thomas took my hand, jarring me from the thought process. He gave it a slight squeeze, and when I looked up at him, he was giving me a warm smile that I knew at the end of the day was for my assurance that although I was the one in his corner tonight, he was always going to be in mine.</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sunsets in Tampa looked better through clouds of cigar smoke. Sitting poolside while Xander loped around the freshly manicured back lawn passing the half-finished Robusto between us was just what I needed to clear my head. I was in my own slice of paradise where no one could find me except the man bringing me my second flank steak pinwheel from the fire pit. </p><p>“So when do I get to meet this mystery baby?” I asked, graciously accepting. </p><p>He answered with an unnecessary, high-pitched chuckle. “When I can stomach the thought of you and my wife being in the same house.” </p><p>“So you send her to her parents’ house, tell her you’re fixing up the nursery, and yet here we are in your backyard where I know you just can’t wait to corner me about what you saw in that office.” </p><p>“I know what I saw. I’ve known from the get-go. He thinks I’m an idiot and so do you. It’s kind of starting to hurt my feelings.” Thomas set down his own plate, daring the dog to creep any closer to us. </p><p>“There’s nothing going on.” </p><p>“Stella, that rosy glow you get in your cheeks is nothing new to me. I’ve put it there in the past--twice. It was the same one I saw in that office.” </p><p>“Okay,” I plugged my ears and exhaled another stream of silvery blue air into the fast approaching night. “He asked me to help him run NXT.”</p><p>“Stella, that’s huge!” Thomas exclaimed, tossing his own pinwheel in Xander’s direction. “But he couldn’t make the offer with his shirt on?” </p><p>“You don’t understand,” I whined. “I think he purposely sabotaged my time on Raw to make sure I came crawling back at the end of the season.” </p><p>“No kidding,” he chuckled weakly, taking a few long drags. </p><p>“Yeah, it’s almost like he paired us together knowing Baron and Jade would implode. I mean, looking back, we were the perfect shitstorm. Kind of like…” </p><p>He returned my stare, puffing twice more until the cigar was just a nub between his fingers. “Here we go.” </p><p>“Kind of like you knew exactly what to say and do to throw me off my game regularly--Thomas?”</p><p>“Okay, out with it,” he said to himself before turning his legs over the edge of his pool chair so that he could face me. “It was the only way I could keep myself from losing my job and my wife all in the same sitting. But in my defense, you botching your debut really made my part of the deal easy.” </p><p>“You mean this stressful existence could have been avoided if you had just stayed the hell away from me?” </p><p>“Look,” Thomas finished the cigar and stamped it out on the concrete between his mammoth feet. “I was paid under the table to make you look worse than you were. Be grateful it was me and not some other power-starved yahoo. Like I said, you made my part of the job easier.” </p><p>“‘Job’--what did H put you up to?” </p><p>“Well first of all, it was Vince, dumbass!” </p><p>My blood ran cold as I thought back to my exchanges that came so few and far between with the old man. “What could he possibly have against me?” </p><p>“The man sees all, Stella. Doesn’t matter if you’re an arm’s length or a mile away from Hunter. That type of energy is palpable. He can’t have his daughter running his company by herself, let alone with a broken heart. I’m sure H hugged you a little too long for his liking one time and now your threat must be eliminated.” </p><p>“You’re saying that like you two haven’t had many an office talk that lasted over ten minutes. Is this fact or speculation?” I folded my arms after tossing my own pinwheel into Xander’s awaiting mouth. “And why can’t Shane take over?” </p><p>“You’re not privy to the politics at all, are you?” Thomas chuckled, kicking his feet back again. “Shane doesn’t want the damn business. He knows just as well as his father that he’d put the company so far under… H is, sadly, his only hope.” </p><p>“Now he doesn’t even want it.” </p><p>“Why do you think he’s been hiding behind NXT busywork?” he was speaking passionately, throwing his arms about while he helped me connect the dots. “He doesn’t want to be a part of the family. He just wants their secrets--and dammit, he got them. Now he can pack up his brand new arsenal of knowledge and he’s ready to surpass them in half the time it took them to build their empire. Why he wants you to help is beyond me.” </p><p>Pulling my knees to my chest, I stared into bright green pool water, made vibrant by the many lights lining the submerged walls. Somewhere outside of my own head, Thomas was pulling his chair in my direction, then he slung his large arm over my shoulders and pulled me closer to his side. </p><p>“Aw, Stella, look at it this way--you’re about to be set for life. You have the heart of the most powerful man in wrestling. Why wouldn’t you talk to me about this sooner? I could smell bullshit on your origin story the moment you opened your mouth.”</p><p>“Trying to pickpocket a famous entertainer and then somehow still managing to seduce him back to my apartment--yeah, not the same as spotting him from across the room.” </p><p>“But you did…” Thomas joked, accepting the many hammer fists I brought down on his nearest arm. </p><p>“I don’t know what to think of any of this.” I sighed with my head in my hands. “Wrestlemania’s coming up. If I don’t accept this offer, that’s it for me in the WWE.” </p><p>“Stella, from me to you--take that damn offer. He’ll protect you from any heat that may be thrown your way. Need I reiterate the simple fact of him being the most powerful human in the wrestling business?” </p><p>I pursed my lips, wishing I’d kept that pinwheel to combat the stress-hunger that was beginning to make its presence known. We finished the night off with a quick dip in the pool that turned into an impromptu ballroom dance lesson where the water reached his waist and my sternum. He picked me up at one point and spun me around, finishing what was just supposed to be a couple of turns as a Deep Six, submerging us both until I sprang up from the depths laughing harder than I had in a long time. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The walk to Vince’s office door felt like a trek into the lair of a beast no one had lived to describe. My heart was hammering, but my strides stayed strong until I heard my name repeated by someone whispering harshly from behind. I turned to walk backwards, but stopped when I saw Shane hurrying in my direction gesturing wildly for me to meet him halfway.</p><p>“Stella, what’s going on? The Smackdown deal’s off the table?” </p><p>He placed his hands on his hips, looking both ways before turning his good ear to hear my reply. “That’s why I’m about to talk to your father.” </p><p>“Don’t do that,” he took hold of my shoulders. “You of all people should steer clear of that office.”</p><p>“Then you explain to me why he paid off people I trusted to ruin my name.” I insisted, shaking off the cold hands that I couldn’t help but associate with the Devil. </p><p>He exhaled through the minor part in his lips and took a step away from me, making sure we were still alone. “Let’s talk in here.” </p><p>“I’m not disappearing behind anymore doors with anyone.” I did my best not to shriek. “If you know anything, Shane--anything at all--you need to tell me right now.” </p><p>“We can’t do this here,” he whined, not used to dealing with my attitude like the rest. “Come on, you demon. I want to help you.” </p><p>A door opened, freezing us both in our stiff positions. As if he knew we were there, Vince nodded his head in my direction and motioned with two fingers.</p><p>“Ah, Stella, c’mere.” </p><p>With bolts in all of my joints, I took a fifty foot voyage that felt like five thousand. The closer I got, the narrower his eyes became, piercing through me as easily as a pair of fangs could have. Like a viper, he recoiled to ensure that we didn’t touch in the slightest. He’d always been that way towards me. With Shane left in the hallway to pretend he was taking a call, I crossed the threshold to find Paul standing much like Stephanie had been a week ago. He remained stoney as we made eye contact and I furrowed my brow. </p><p>“Stella,” he nodded.</p><p>“Yeah, hi,” I scoffed, waiting for Vince to ask me to have a seat. </p><p>He sat down and, completely forgetting his manners, launched into business. “You know I don’t like you.” </p><p>“Affirmative,” I replied to further dig my grave. </p><p>The clean, fit mogul shot me a venomous scowl and continued. “Now I understand Paul’s offered you a new NXT deal--a deal with great responsibility attached. Frankly, I don’t want you anywhere near my brand any longer than you need to be.”</p><p>“Vince,” H huffed.</p><p>“You hush,” he barked, sending a droplet of spit in my direction. “Whatever your obsession is with her makes me sick. You’re supposed to be head of talent--what did you even see in her?” </p><p>“Okay, sir,” I threw my hand up, knowing I would be alright in any given outcome of this situation. “I’m standing right here and I’m well aware that not being blonde and compliant means you have no room for me on your roster.”</p><p>“Watch yourself,” H warned me.</p><p>“I don’t need you to defend me from her! Go ahead and drop the facade. If you aren’t fucking her now, you most certainly were. Does your wife--my daughter--know?” </p><p>As his many years of training had prepared him for, H remained expressionless, staring down Vince from the corner of his eye like a large statue. “Believe what you’d like.” </p><p>Ignoring his son-in-law, Vince doubled back to me with his pointer finger jabbing in my direction. “I’m going to send you off with one last hurrah. Since the Universe seems to be behind you even after that crappy stunt--”</p><p>“--that you paid Elias to botch in order to make me look bad.” </p><p>“Smart, girl,” Vince chuckled. “We’re turning the Triple Threat for both Women’s titles into a Fatal Four-Way. If you win, you’ll be on both brands as the Unified Champion. If you lose, you stay the hell away from the Main Roster--do you understand me? But until the episode before ‘Mania, you’ll train and you will set foot nowhere near my locker rooms. Get on a plane and go.” </p><p>“Thank you,” I said flatly, able to catch H’s head nods in my peripherals. </p><p>“And you,” Vince turned back to H. “Do whatever you want with her--hell, I know how a fresh face can make you feel--just make it a quick, clean divorce.” </p><p>When Vince broke his gaze, H shut his eyes with a frown. I was dismissed and immediately bumped into Shane who had the pleasure of receiving all of my body weight as I finally managed to process what had just happened. His eyes were wide as if he’d heard everything from the other side of the door. </p><p>“You’re okay. Stand up and talk to me.” he said soothingly.</p><p>“Sorry, nothing,” I insisted. “I’m in the Triple Threat.” </p><p>“Why do I get the sense that you’re not excited.”</p><p>I tried to speak, but my tongue twisted brutally. My jaw dropped a couple of times, daring so much as a squeak to erupt from my burning throat, but instead a single tear rolled down my cheek which led the way for a massive flood from my tear ducts. All I could hear over my silent wails was Shane doing his best to comfort me in the middle of the hall where familiar faces did their best to mind their business while getting the full scoop. </p><p>“I’m being tortured,” I sobbed, gripping the sides of his jacket and burying my face in the soft cotton shirt he was wearing.</p><p>“Funny,” he chuckled. “I’m feeling a strange sense of deja-vu--kind of like I held my sister while she said the same thing after she realized she was in love with Hunter.” </p><p>The tears ceased immediately and I let go of him like he’d caught on fire. “I--I--”</p><p>“You,” he put his finger up to cut me off. “Don’t need to explain yourself. I hate the man. The further away he is from my family the better. He’s a termite and I’d love it if he just stayed in NXT and remembered his place beneath the McMahons.” </p><p>“Excuse me?” I choked, pushing my hair from my face and doing my best to wipe away the smudged mascara on my lower lid. </p><p>Shane shook his sleeve away from his watch with pursed lips. “Come on. I’ll take you to the airport and we can talk.” </p><p>Long story short--Shane knew of H’s agenda and had sat idly by watching his own sister make a fool of herself for what she thought was love. He’d watched the enamored spark leave the eyes of a sociopath, seen the monstrosity he became when he’d obtained his own show under the safety of the regal family. For Vince, H was an asset--never a son-in-law, hardly an honorary member of the elite. </p><p>“Just be careful what you two do--but Stell, more power to you.” Shane finished, jabbing the top corner of his phone in my direction. “I can’t wait to see what you do for this company. If you need anything--just you--you can always call me. You should know that.” </p><p>I leaned my head against the heavily tinted window to my right. “Am I making a mistake?” </p><p>“Can I be honest with you?” Shane was grinning solemnly, letting his eyes trail away as he focused on something I couldn’t see. “The look he gives you is the look he used to give Stephanie--but this time, I can tell it's genuine.”</p><p>“Not him,” I snapped. “Am I making a mistake taking on the talent and oversight of an entire brand?” </p><p>He had no more answers for me. Soon, I was on a plane stuck in my own head filtering through every small event that had brought me to this. Next thing I knew, I was home in my own bed staring at the empty space beside me in a room that was soon to be full of sleepless nights as I struggled to find my place yet again in an unfamiliar territory.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Practicing with three hot-heads meant little to no progress was made. If Ronda wasn’t complaining about the intensity of Becky’s Disarm Her, Charlotte was griping about me even sharing the ring with them. H had taken it upon himself to oversee our training which made everything even more awkward. I kept my eyes away from him and although his close watch on me was being noted by the other three with smirks on their faces and side glances to each other when they thought I wasn’t looking. </p><p>“Stella,” he barked for the eight time. “Why would you duck when you could hit her with a right hook?” </p><p>“Because this isn’t my fight, Paul.” I snapped back at him, clenching my fists and getting back on my feet. </p><p>“You have to make them think it is!” he responded through gritted teeth. “Charlotte, when you do your moonsault, pretend you landed wrong.” </p><p>“What good is that going to do me?” she complained. </p><p>“And why is she here?” Becky asked, turning to me quickly. “Not that I don’t love you to death, Stella--it’s just… a little sudden.” </p><p>“Yeah, it’s a bit much.” Ronda added. </p><p>He raised his hand, looking just as tired as I knew he was. “It’s what Vince wants. Just go with it, okay?” </p><p>The door nearest to us swung open furiously and there stood an unfamiliar man with a large folder and a cell phone in the same hand. With a stern expression, he beckoned for H to follow him to which the aggravated man stomped off with no other words. This left me completely vulnerable in the middle of the ring surrounded by three tenacious women with a thirst for backstage drama and politics. </p><p>“So that thing with you two is back on, I see?” Charlotte giggled sarcastically with a raised brow. “I mean--that’s how you got here, isn’t it?” </p><p>“Relax, Ash,” Becky insisted, stepping between the two of us. “Don’t worry about how she got here. Just focus on beating her.” </p><p>“I’m not going to win this.” I groaned, sliding under the ropes so that I could get some water. “That’s already been decided.” </p><p>“Then why are you here? You’re stealing our thunder for absolutely no reason.” Ronda added.</p><p>Both girls glared at her before Charlotte spoke up again. “It’s because she really knows her way into people’s hearts--and beds.”</p><p>“Uncalled for,” Becky snapped. “Can we just get back to practice?” </p><p>“I’m good for today,” I said shakily. Picking up my duffel bag and calling out to them over my shoulder. “Just let me know where I fit in. Even if it’s under the ring.” </p><p>Without another thought as to what they could be thinking about me, I stalked out of the Performance Center and leaned against the trunk of my car, hoping that the rest of my water bottle would be enough to cool me down. I’d just finished my last long swig when a pair of dainty arms wrapped around my middle and a chipper voice sounded in my ear. </p><p>“Heard you’re coming back to us--yay!” giggled little Deonna Purrazzo. </p><p>“How’d you find that out?” </p><p>“Hunter can’t keep his mouth shut,” responded Matt Riddle from behind us, holding his arms out for a hug. </p><p>With Dee still attached to me, I let him rest his head on the top of mine, feeling like I was back at home at last. They both let me go at the same time and Matt continued talking. “He wasn’t going to tell us until after Wrestlemania, but he’s so excited to have you help run the show. You could see it in his eyes.” </p><p>“What’s with that, hmm?” she asked me, delivering a small nudge to my abdomen. </p><p>“I wish I could tell you,” I laughed with a sour feeling in my gut. </p><p>“We also heard,” Matt took up a relaxed stance against my trunk beside me. “That you’re in a Fatal Four-Way for both Women’s titles--congrats!” </p><p>“That’s my send off. Vince isn’t happy with anything that has my name on it.” </p><p>“He’s too old to know what he wants anymore.” Dee huffed, retying her ponytail. </p><p>A large truck whipped into a parking spot and out jumped Thomas, already sweating as if he’d just come from a workout. He sprinted to the three of us, resting his hands on his knees and nearly knocking Matt to the ground. </p><p>“Stell--Stella… You need to come with me...now.” he panted without giving me a chance to say goodbye to my friends. </p><p>After hoisting me into the truck himself and bolting around to the other side, I let my headache take over me and leaned my seat back. “What’s your deal?” </p><p>“You can’t accept that deal with Hunter.” he told me outright, jabbing three fingers in my face. “I heard--simply because I’m so easy to talk to--that Vince is going to make sure NXT gets cancelled.”</p><p>My head snapped up as he backed out of the parking lot and sped off down the road. “Who told you this?” </p><p>“His fucking son, Stella. Cigars bring more people together than you think.” </p><p>“Why wouldn’t he tell me this himself?” </p><p>“Look, hot shot, this is some Game of Thrones shit that’s about to take place. You and your new boyfriend are messing with House McMahon and they’re ready for war.” </p><p>“He’s not my boyfriend.” I groaned. </p><p>“Who cares. He’s old enough to be your father. Which one would you rather I call him?” </p><p>“Shane said it didn’t matter.” I ignored him. </p><p>“You can’t trust him, Stella. Hunter is breaking away from a very powerful family and leaving the princess heartbroken. You can’t expect there not to be retaliation.”</p><p>“My car’s parked at the Center,” </p><p>Screeching to a halt to the side of the road in an older neighborhood, Thomas nearly broke the button for the hazard lights and turned to me, the corners of his mouth frothing in anger. “YOU ARE HOLDING A STICK OF DYNAMITE AND I AM TRYING TO HELP YOU!” </p><p>“You’re overreacting, Thomas!” I shot back just as loud. </p><p>“You’re really dumb enough to think that Vince is going to be okay with Hunter continuing on with NXT after all this? Come on, Stella, I thought you were better than that.” </p><p>“He can’t just up and cancel NXT.”</p><p>“Okay, but he can slowly chip away at it and you won’t live to see the season after.” </p><p>“Shane wished me nothing but the best.”  I said weakly, trying to think back on that conversation. </p><p>“Because he thought you’d choose to go on over to Smackdown,” Thomas pointed out. “He thought you’d be smart enough to stay out of the mess and mind your business.” </p><p>“We’ll be fine.” </p><p>Thomas stared at me for a good long while before letting out a frustrated laugh and running a hand over his bald head. “ Vince put us together to drop your ratings so that he could let you go in a civil manner.”</p><p>I hit him with my weak fist. “Yeah I figured that out too. What of it?”</p><p>“He’s desperate to get rid of you because you don’t fit the bill in the slightest and just about everything you do here makes a big impact that deters from ‘his vision’. You slept with Dean Ambrose--he rejected the idea of being GM of Raw for his comeback. You broke up Paul and Steph--there’s complete unrest in the kingdom. You took the belt from Ronda--She’s leaving the fight scene altogether and openly trashing the WWE. Fans love you when they should be loving Charlotte with the help of Ric Flair’s generous contribution.”</p><p>I was beginning to feel sick. My stubborn side didn’t care to admit that he was right. I wanted Hunter--to talk this out with me, to assure me that we’d be okay, to remind me that nothing bad would happen. It was becoming hard to know who to trust, but when Thomas cradled both sides of my face, I flashed back to all the fights, the psychosis--the lack of judgment he’d passed on me. I didn’t know what else to do except let a tear fall down my cheek which he caught with one massive thumb. </p><p>“Just know that you’re going to have to keep a significant guard up, champ. You’re entering the cut-throat, business side of things. No one’s your friend.” </p><p>“What’s in this for you?” I mumbled weakly. </p><p>He sighed. “A new spot as General Manager where I can stay close to home and help look after my family.” </p><p>“That’s what I thought,” I scoffed, unlocking my door and sliding from the cabin. “I’ll take it into consideration.” </p><p>“At least let me give you a ride back,” he offered, putting the truck in reverse to stay within earshot. </p><p>“I could use the jog.” I called to him, picking up my pace as his large vehicle came to a stop. </p><p>There was no denying anything that he’d just told me, but still I felt the need to brush off the entire conversation and carry on as planned. I was conflicted, under qualified, and all I wanted was to never get out of bed again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Sleeping away from home used to be an unpleasant experience for me. I liked my space too much. It was familiar and unthreatening. Spending nights with Hunter on the grounds that he and Stephanie built held an air of suspense as if she’d come home any minute made it hard to enjoy the smooth sheets and light blankets that draped my scantily clothed body. For the second night in a row, I awoke at three in the morning to the soft sounds of rock ballads and his bedside lamp shining full force. When I rolled over, he was propped up on multiple pillows holding an iPad in his lap and a cell phone in one hand. </p><p>“What are you doing?” I grumbled. “Do you ever sleep?” </p><p>“Vince is asking me if I have any ideas for this year’s SummerSlam as if we’re. Not going to go with his predetermined plan.” He replied softly.</p><p> </p><p>“At three in the morning?” I scrambled to my knees and reached over him to turn off the lamp. “Turn the brightness down on your screens.” </p><p>He let me roll back over and get comfortable before he replied. “Do you think we should give that kid Rollins a chance?” </p><p>“I don’t know,” I snapped, feeling the blanket of sleep beginning to lift from my consciousness.</p><p>“We all know Lesnar and the Undertaker are going to be the main event. I just think he deserves some sort of big match.” </p><p>“Wouldn’t he and Cena make some sense?” I groaned, jamming a pillow over my head. “Good night.” </p><p>I was left alone for only a brief second. H slid a hand over my waist and turned me over. “That’s the only thing that makes sense. You’re right!” </p><p>“Okay, thanks.” </p><p>From my position, I could see his screens shut off so that we were left alone in complete darkness except for the crescent moon. He got as close as he could go me and exhaled into my neck. “I’m sorry. Get some sleep. It’s a big show tomorrow.” </p><p>He was a naturally warm person—not my favorite to cuddle up to, but his strong arms felt good wrapped around me. He let me get comfortable, balancing my neck on his large bicep and mumbled something I didn’t care to have him repeat. Having been up since five in the morning, I couldn’t keep my eyes open for much longer. </p><p>My next awakening happened to a loud alarm telling me we both had another long day ahead of us. As usual, I binged on catering food with little time to prepare anything real for breakfast or lunch that day. The cycle repeated three more nights—he even tried to keep Stephanie and his daughters out longer as if I’d been begging him to do so. </p><p>Those were the days, I always thought to myself. No Jonathan to mess with my feelings, no Thomas to tell me I was being ridiculous, and the safety of a secret that I could have sworn no one would have learned.</p>
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<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I remembered Cody Rhodes from my timid days on the roster, but he was clearly a changed man--a clean cut southern gentleman who highly resembled a Ken Doll from his pressed clothes to his perfectly gelled, platinum blonde hair. His departure from WWE had treated him well, I could see, but he certainly looked out of place in my dance studio. My intermediate Jazz class, comprised of teenage girls who couldn’t contain their giggles and stares, took their water break with a curious buzz erupting amongst them as he approached me, fiddling with the rolled sleeves of his white button down. </p><p>“Wow,” I chuckled, feeling underdressed for our impromptu meeting in tights and a loose tank top. “I almost didn’t recognize you under all that...success.” </p><p>“Good to see you, Stella,” he grinned, taking one of my hands in both of his. “Do you have a minute to talk?” </p><p>“I’m in the middle of a class,” I shrugged, peeking at the girls next to the mirror.</p><p>“Talk to him,” one insisted. </p><p>“Get his number!” Shouted another. </p><p>“Hey, hey, relax,” Cody chuckled, turning his full attention to the whole group. “This is business.” </p><p>“Girls, practice the routine. Kate, you’re in charge.” I pointed to the tallest in the group, who had obviously been dancing before she could even walk. </p><p>Cody followed me into the hallway and out the back door where we posted up on the small stoop facing each other in the hot sun. He rubbed his hands together, and positioned himself like he was getting ready to pitch a great idea. </p><p>“Stella Giordano--Jade West--you belong on AEW. We’re prepared to do whatever it takes to have you join our promotion.” </p><p>I wrinkled me nose, the sound of AEW reminding me of Jonathan. “I’ve already got another job offer after Mania.”</p><p> </p><p>“Have you signed a contract?” he asked, unmoved by my statement. </p><p>“No,” </p><p>“Then what’s stopping you from--It’s Hunter, isn’t it?” His shoulders fell. “What sort of sweet talk did he give you this time?” </p><p>“Don’t act like you know the situation,” I snapped, ready to head back inside. “I’m going to help run NXT.” </p><p>He snorted. “So you’re done wrestling then? You get the fabulous, coveted Call-Up to Raw only to head right back to Developmental to run the show? You can’t be falling for that load of crap. Why get mixed up in the McMahon family drama? Why be a puppet?” </p><p>“I’m no good in the ring.” I argued, unable to believe the words that I’d just spat so willingly. “I can’t cut a promo, when I win, it’s a fluke, and I do nothing but muck up storylines.” </p><p>“That’s what Vince wants you to think,” he rubbed his smooth chin and reached in his breast pocket, removing a small card. “I’m not going to sit here and chat you up about the idea, but when you decide to join us--and you will--give Brandi and me a call. We want to see you back in your element.” </p><p>Letting him place the card in my hand, he said nothing more and circled around the building out of sight. I don’t know exactly what force drove me to sprint after him, but I caught him before he could step onto the busy sidewalk. </p><p>“Cody, can I ask you something?” </p><p>I could tell he took a minute to silently celebrate before he turned back to face me--a red-faced, flustered young professional with zero direction of her own. “I’m all ears.” </p><p>“Why me?” </p><p>“Because,” he started back in my direction with a brand new energy that nearly knocked me off balance. “This is a revolution. We’re going to rise up so fast Vince isn’t going to know what to do to keep his ratings. You want to know what I’m talking about? Join us, Stella. You’ll be brand new on your terms. We want nothing more than to see a wrestler be just that--not some ‘sports entertainer’. Wrestling isn’t all about the glitz and the promos and the costumes. It’s about the athleticism, the storytelling through the motions. You should know all about that--you’re a freakin’ dancer.” </p><p>Cody was all but standing over me with his pointer fingers pressed into his temples. He was doing a great job of selling me on the subject, but I was so sick of any sort of manipulation. </p><p>“What’s the catch?” </p><p>“No catch--just wrestling.” he answered patiently.</p><p>“When do you want an answer?” </p><p>He smirked. “Whenever you’re ready to give us one.” </p><p>With that, he turned again and disappeared for good. I stared down at the card between my fingers. His handwriting was just as pristine as the rest of him--WELCOME TO THE TEAM. I tapped the corner against my chin thoughtfully as I returned to my eagerly waiting girls, all of which were looking to copy his number off of the card. Once I’d fought them off and restored order, I danced harder than I’d ever danced before. The fog in my head was beginning to thin--everything was becoming clearer. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>I’d been a filler in my share of Mania events, but staring at myself dressed like Baron Corbin’s slutty assistant made me miss the baseball shirt. I pulled the short white vest down as far as I could and readjusted the brassiere so that the overabundance of sequins would stop stabbing me in the chest. My boots sat by the door--I was too lazy to roll them all the way up my thigh in the moment--recently polished to the point where the leather almost reflected their surroundings. I’d never wear those boots again, I told myself. </p><p>When I peered into the hallway, used to all the disdainful glares from the Women’s locker room, I saw Seth shyly hurrying up the hallway in my direction with his eyes low and his hands cupped around them like blinders as he delivered half-hearted apologies to all the appalled ladies who had yet to sit in the makeup chair. </p><p>“God, I’m so sorry--I’m sorry--hey, Carmella, sorry--sorry--Stella!” When he reached me, the gossip stirred up as if he’d disturbed a beehive. </p><p>I let him drag me back the way he’d come by my wrist after I’d hastily grabbed my boots. We practically ran past the questioning stares of crew and management, circumvented Charlotte filming a segment for her ‘Chronicle’. He brought me to the loading dock looking more frantic than I’d seen him in a long time. </p><p>“Colby, what--”</p><p>“Alright, I’ve got to go kick some Lesnar ass now. Wish me luck!” </p><p>I waved in confusion, watching the crew members around me get their eyeful, ready to turn on my heel to get into a mindset to embarrass myself yet again on television. As I did so, someone barked my name--someone I hadn’t expected in the slightest.</p><p>When I turned, Jonathan was already pulling me into him by the waist, a faint hint of a beer sitting just beyond his thick beard. He kept a firm grip on me as if he was unaware of the company we kept in that moment. </p><p>“Stella, you have to take Cody up on his offer.” </p><p>“How did you know about that?” I asked quietly. “Why would I do such a thing?” </p><p>“Because you don’t belong here.” he whispered back, bringing his nose even closer to mine. “You need to be somewhere with people who give you the creative license to make Jade a badass again. I mean, look at you--all white? You’re actually dressed like a snowflake.” </p><p>I chuckled, remembering how good it felt to laugh with him when he wasn’t being difficult to be around. Sliding my arms up his chest, I pushed him back a bit. “Don’t you have a match tonight? Why do you smell like beer?” </p><p>“After all the bullshit Vince has been putting me through? I’m not in this shit. He can eat one.” he scoffed, holding onto me tighter. “Are you listening to me? Don’t let these bastards keep you here. They’ll tell you it’s not a demotion, but it’s NXT. It’s a fucking demotion.” </p><p>“Jonathan, I have to get ready to go on.” </p><p>“Stella,” he wrapped his arms all the way around my waist, making me melt. “Leave this mess with me. I’m an idiot for not telling you this before, but I love you. I can’t find it in me to fix things with Renee. Dammit, don’t make me get sentimental.” </p><p>“Let me go,” I laughed, not wanting him to see how his words had affected me.</p><p>My knees were shaking and adrenaline was beginning to sure through my entire body. He let me break free just long enough to get a good look at me, then he pulled me right back and kissed me harder than he ever had. I gave into the moment, wrapping my arms around his neck while I listened to the quiet mixed reactions coming from the few people still around us. The already thinning fog had lifted completely. There was no future for me in that costume, on those stages, in front of those cameras. I was meant for something more. Jade was meant for more. Everyone used to love to hate her--but nowadays she was laughed at. </p><p>“Call them. Just do it.” he urged me, finally releasing me from his tight grip.</p><p>“Let me get through tonight first.” I begged, turning away knowing full well that his eyes stayed glued to me. </p><p>I’m not entirely sure what happened between then and me standing in a full stadium backed by Thomas who was urging me to say something with the microphone in my hand. In an instant, I forgot the monologue we’d worked on. With nothing left to lose, I looked between Becky and Charlotte, completely ignoring Ronda altogether. They sat in their own crumpled heaps, gasping for air, massaging their sides, and waiting for me to finally open my mouth. </p><p>My silence must have carried on for longer than I could tell, standing there petrified with no more music, and jeers slowly starting to emanate from all around us. Thomas put his hands on my shoulders, trying to keep our characters alive. </p><p>“Go take what’s yours, baby!” </p><p>Trying to grab my hand and lead me to the ring, Thomas marches forward only to be caught off guard by me wrenching free from his grip. “Um…”</p><p>“What are you doing?” He asked, knowing the cameras weren’t on us. “This is the Main Event. Let’s keep things moving.” </p><p>“This isn’t my main event,” I murmured, bringing the microphone to my lips at last. “Becky,” </p><p>Trying to improvise, Becky hobbled to her weak legs and leaned against the ropes between us yelling, “What could you possibly want right now?” </p><p>Thomas tried not to look confused, but was unable to keep from frowning down at me. The look I gave him elicited a nod and a step back. </p><p>“Becky, take back our belt. Take Charlotte’s while you’re at it. You’re The Man!” </p><p>I didn’t stick around to listen to the crowd’s reaction. I yanked Thomas towards the exit and put my head in my hands knowing that the fire storm was on its way. Both H and Vince were already waiting for me when I peeled back the curtain to face my stunned coworkers. One was livid and the other only seemed slightly angry. </p><p>“Keep your contract, Paul.” I said before either of them could jump after me. “I’m leaving.” </p><p>“Excuse me?” He winced. </p><p>Shrugging, I stepped past them both. “I can’t do it!”</p><p>As if he hadn’t turned weak in the past month, he glared at me through his thick brow. “You’re making a big mistake, Stella.”</p><p>I tapped my chin as I turned away. “I really don’t think I am.” </p><p>Thomas, who was beside me the entire time matched my jog. “I knew you’d make the right choice, kid—proud of you.” </p><p>“What’s going to happen to you?” I asked, remembering that Corbin was practically on the chopping block when we were forced together. </p><p>“I’ve already re-signed. Don’t worry about me, you loon! Get out of here. Start your next chapter.” He smirked sadly, nudging my shoulder with one large hand. “I’ll finally be able to breathe again now that I don’t have to look after you all the time.” </p><p>All I could do was jump up to hug him around his neck. Surprised by my weight, he staggered backward but held me up nonetheless. Though I was certain it wouldn’t be the last time, I gripped the back of his vest and let our entire season playback in my head--the dysfunction, the sweet moments, the absurdities. He was officially a piece of me that I was afraid to lose and I genuinely couldn’t believe the tears welling up in my own eyes. </p><p>“It’s been fun. I mean that.” </p><p>“Will you stop?” he scoffed, setting me down. “Only drama queens get this worked up.”</p><p>I watched him blink profusely with his hands on his hips. With a small laugh, I narrowed my eyes and pointed at his cheeks. “Are you crying?” </p><p>“Get out of here before they call security on you, fool. You’re no longer an employee as far as I can tell.” he laughed, wiping something away from his jawbone. “I’ll call you--don’t you dare call me.” </p><p>Dodging reporters was easy, but every picture of me to surface the next day was more than likely to be of me sprinting down the hallway with a wide grin. That was fine by me--let them talk. I was a story of liberation much like Jericho, much like Ambrose, and much like Dillinger. It was a bittersweet feeling, leaving my costume in the locker room and exiting with nothing more than my duffel bag and a pair of sweats with an unknown origin. I couldn’t wait to put everyone behind me. </p><p>“Good on you,” called Fergal who engaged in a slow clap as he stepped towards me. “You’re going to do great things, Stella.” </p><p>“I’m sorry for…” I didn’t even know where to begin--showing up drunk to our date? Stringing him along while I pined after a confused married man? </p><p>“Easy, easy, no hard feelings,” he chuckled. “Because of you, I met someone pretty special. So in all actuality--thank you.”</p><p>“Oh,” I breathed, my ego taking a minor hit. “Congratulations.” </p><p>“Nevermind all that. I’m just glad I got to say goodbye before we went in different directions.” </p><p>I walked backwards towards the backdoor, getting one last look at the sweetest man I’d ever met. When I tasted the New Jersey air, it was like breathing for the first time. A taxi ride back to the hotel did wonders in washing away the dread for the next day. For the first time in a long time, I wouldn’t be in the gym. I wouldn’t need to be on my best behavior for media. Nothing mattered except the man who surprised me in the lobby with his fists jammed in the pockets of his sweatshirt. </p><p>“I only have one request,” he murmured, the few drinks he’d had since we’d last spoken evident in his speech pattern. “Don’t embarrass me with your bad grappling technique.” </p><p>“Oh my God,” I laughed, brushing past him to get on the elevator. “Don’t embarrass me with your patronizing training sessions.” </p><p>“I can’t embarrass you if you do it right,” he shrugged, waiting for the doors to close before gently backing me into a corner. “So this is it, huh?” </p><p>“Yeah, I guess we’re stuck with each other.” </p><p>He grinned, slowly leaning down to me until our lips touched. “Perfect.”</p>
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